Greetings, one an all, to the edge of the world, where the Sun lays its head and the people are as beautiful as they are rotten. Don't be distracted by the lights, although I wouldn't blame you, those same lights drag hundreds of thousands from across the wold here, slave to their own ambition, greed and vice. An endless march. Hollywood is pathed with broken dreams, and paid for with broken bones.
The Supernatural underworld is abuzz with news of LA, a recent conflict among the two great Vampire Unions in the West, the Camarilla and the Anarchs resulted in a long night of blood and death, and when the smoke cleared, nigh on every elder in the city was gone, dead or fled. Buried or hidden. The city sits in uneasy peace, without leadership. The Anarchs and the Camarilla plot among themselves and with each other, and when they fight, the Sabbat watches on, eager to add another piece to its transcontinental empire of Fire and Brimstone. From across the boundless Pacific come the Kuei-jin, ancient master of the Far East. Wolf packs hunt in the night, and they smell for blood of Kindred on the wind. The Magi sit in their towers, towers of glass and steel, not stone, but all the same, gathering their power upon astral winds. The edge of the world is for the taking, but nobody wants to share.
OOC
The RP is set in the Old World of Darkness, in the city of LA and the surrounding area, as portrayed in the lore of the World of Darkness (most famously the Bloodline video game). Players take control of individuals and their support network, be that a web of shady dealings across the city, or a pack of werewolves. The only factions of the World of Darkness ruled out are the Angels and Demons. Simply remember, my rulings on matters will stand, regardless of World of Darkness or other source material, write up a character, and have fun.
The RP is set immediately after a substantial conflict among the Kindred (vampire) community of LA, the dominant powers in the region (The Camarilla and the Anarchs) and players will be expected to fit into that narrative, regardless of origin. The bar, the Sunset Lounge, currently stands as the last piece of neutral ground among the hostile supernatural factions.
Character Sheet
Name: Age; (actual/appearance) Species: (Kindred, human, werewolf, kuei-jin etc) Appearance: (Preferably a picture, can have written description as well) Personality: (Just a paragraph or so about how they usually conduct themselves) Biography: (A few paragraphs, or more, major events and the like) NPCs: (Any well fleshed out characters you will likely control, feel free to do micro sheets for them).
I made a Technocracy-aligned character, is that alright?
Name: Grace Liu is her given name, usually goes by an alias in her line of work Age: 39 Species: Human Mage (the Technocracy insists on using the term Enlightened Personnel)
Appearance: Personality: Grace is a true believer in the Technocracy and its mission for a safe and superstition free humanity. She is well versed in the formalities of the Technocracy’s culture and shares the cold and rational outlook common within its ranks. However, she is also chronically stressed as a result of the demands of her job, and more willing to take a pragmatic approach to the enforcement, concentrating on the big picture and spirit of the rules rather following policy by rote. When dealing with the public she initially uses a friendly demeanor, projecting an almost unnatural kindness, but she finds it difficult maintain this when things get contentious. In formal technocracy settings she falls back into the default bureaucratic personality of unquestioning loyalty and obedience, but outside that she is more relaxed and isn’t afraid to mince words.
Biography: Grace had a normal middle class upbringing in a suburb of Seattle, her father worked for Boeing and her mother taught part time at the local community college. From an early age she exceeded academically, almost equally in the humanities and the hard sciences. She was very academically oriented and had few friends in high school, always finding excuses to avoid socialization and even holding a little contempt for the common masses.
Grace went to college on a considerable scholarship, and had difficulty choosing a major, but eventually finished and moved on to graduate school. In graduate school she was even more indecisive, and bounced between department accumulating credits and working as a research assistant. Little legends began to pass around the department about how some experiments seemed to work differently when she was around, and she became valuable in an environment where a steady stream of publishing papers dictated who earned tenure. While she was on her long and winding path, the Technocracy approached her. Considerable amounts of observation had given them reason to believe that she would be useful on their side, and she gladly accepted. Joining the Technocracy would mean leaving almost of her old life behind, but Grace never had much of one so didn’t mind making the sacrifice. After considerable training she was assigned a position within the NWO, away from field work.
She proved excellent at cataloging information and analyzing the intel on reality deviants gathered by the Technocracy’s vast bureaucracy, but over time she came to worry that her talents were being wasted working as a glorified librarian. Enlightened personnel were a rare resource, and they were especially valuable on the front lines of the conflict. Sensing an opportunity for advancement, she became a field agent, and was assigned to the Southern California region. The massive amount of media meant that the Syndicate exercised heavy influence over Technocracy operations in the area, NWO presence was undermanned, overworked, and usually on the losing end of territorial fights with the Syndicate. Turnover was excessively high, and soon enough Grace found herself the NWO field operative in charge of all of Los Angeles County. The work is stressful and unrewarding, especially with recent shakeups, but she has stayed in the position longer than anyone else so far, and considers it a success if she can just stop any major trouble from being noticed by masses.
Name: Yanci Carolina (Known by the latter.) Age: 24 Years Old in appearance, actually 40 years old. (Embraced in 2001.) Species: Kindred, Toreador, Anarch. 11th Generation.
Personality:
For an Anarch, Carolina is rather reserved. Even heeled and contemplative, but not afraid of confrontation. Seems to value intelligence and moderation. When it comes to her art, Carolina puts everything she has into it. In any social circle she keeps everyone at a healthy distance, and is almost impossibly slow to trust.
Biography:
Born in Southern California to a working class Mexican-American family, she was raised under the Mexican Catholic tradition, and for most of her life could even have been called a good, nice, girl. Somewhere along the way that went wrong, though no one seems to know how or why. Those Anarchs who have worked with her over the years would say her father was abusive, though each has a different tale as to the kind of abuse the girl suffered. Whatever the cause, Carolina moved to Los Angeles shortly after her 21st birthday. Aspiring actress, writer, and musician--a common Los Angeles tale.
She would work as a waitress waiting for a big break, until that big break came at the fangs of a Kindred. Her sire is unknown, as she was left shortly after. Some Toreador Anarch, is the best explanation she can do. A former Camarilla Toreador named Cecilia had pity and took the neonate in. Whatever Cecilia's long game, Carolina seems entirely independent at this point, not telling what happened to Cecilia or how she came to live with a rag-tag group of Anarchs in the Valley. It's believed her role with a Hollywood Talent Management Agency was set up through Cecilia, though there's no telling for sure.
Carolina's involvement in the recent dramatic events of L.A. seems more likely a bystander than a participant.
Misc.: Carolina's tattoos, much like her known past and punk rock life, are entirely carefully constructed fabrications--in reality the punk Anarch known as Carolina is truly a 7th Generation Toreador named Yanci born in 1717 not 1977 (making her exactly 300 years old), connected to some of the most powerful Kindred on the West Coast, and the Kindred overlords of Hollywood. She is a master manipulator hiding in plain sight as Elders around her drop like flies--Elders, except, for those she calls mentors. Her role is anyone's guess, but it is unlikely she played the part of predator and aggressor in recent violence.
A fact that does not rule out a possible role as avenger in the near future...
Name: Peter Lapin Alternate Identity: Uncle Scott of the Deliroe Family Age: 17 - 18 / 106 Species: Kindred, Malkavian, 12th Generation (Neonate), Camarilla Derangements Bipolar/Anal Retentive
Biography: Peter Lapin was only a small child when his family immigrated from the over turned Imperial Russian regime. Bloodshed and starvation had slaughtered the country in waves of anarchy and chaos. However, Peter has no concrete recollection of this hectic event as he was shuffled by his father, a high standing military General Major in the Russian Calvary, and his mother, a Petersburg Society Princess, by boat from Russia to America. As “White Russians,” his family was welcomed by the United States government. However, the older and significantly less wealthy generation of Russian immigrants were not at all as welcoming towards the influx of displaced Russian aristocracy planting new roots into the American soil. There was a defeatist mindset that set the tone in the Lapin household as his father took up low-wage manual labor and toiled amongst Russians that had nothing but disdain for his class’s attitude when under the Imperial Russian regime.
It was years into the settling of the Lapin family into the vineyard fields of California when Peter’s parents started noticing Peter was behaving in an abnormal manner. It seemed like something that had happened over night, or perhaps, it had been gradual and had somehow gone unnoticed until just yesterday. He as in his later adolescent years, which did warrant some kind of excuse—a cutting of apron strings, so to speak, but both felt something deeper was causing the sudden shift in behavior. They also had no particular way of confronting the situation as the guilt of their distinguishable reputation had caused much rejection placed on the family, and the need for Peter to uphold his behavior was rather unbending in a chilling way. Nonetheless, his parents ignorantly decided on working towards begging for their son’s forgiveness, hoping that an open heart would bring back the young man they thought they had raised. It was one thing to begin holding the burden of the death of their very own Divinely Crowned Emperor, but to see the distaste in their son as their respect continued to be stripped away from them was another thing. Of course, they didn’t have an abundance of time (due to the growth in the family and long hours worked) to make any huge or lasting alterations to how Peter was reared, and so, the behavior preceded until one day, they never heard from him, again.
Behind the veil of what was tempting Peter to act out started off as a small bribe of rebelliousness that slowly formed into the meeting of 11th Generation Malkavian, Major Russell Bell. Perhaps it was the odd intelligence and stereotypical light-hearted dark humor weaved into the Russian culture of his family that made the Malkavian take notice of their sturdy, young boy, peddling his feet through the dark farm roads one night—naively looking for non permitted adventure or something otherwise known as trouble. He didn’t find any such thing before making his disappointedly relieved way back home, but the trouble definitely found him. Russell spent several years off-handedly studying the boy before making any decision to make himself known to the mortal, and when he did become known, he simply made the boy his ghoul. He was roughly the age of sixteen or seventeen when it happened. Peter can’t really remember how old he was when the first drop of vitae touched his tongue. He also does not remember the taste as he’s more concerned with the taste of mortal vitae, particularly of the human variety.
However, he does remember something about a Sabbat attack that left him injured to such an extent, Russell decided to Embrace him, become his sire. It was definitely one thing to be drinking a monthly drop or two of Malkavian vitae every month, but it was a whole different animal (if that is what one would call it) to become one let alone live as one for eternity. Peter made it through the Embrace. “Crazy Jane” maybe helped him, or maybe it was Russell’s nursing him for a while before the Embrace, but whatever it was—nothing was the same. There was no trying to look through the world from a different angle to make things seem normal or close to normal or even remotely normal. Normal wasn’t even a concept he could grasp. There had been maybe a smidgen of hope that he’d get used to this state, but he quickly forgot what he was even hoping for as time went on. Everything just was, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.
The beginning of being a Malkavian was like being in a strange cage of deranged voices that were sometimes quiet, sometimes whispers, sometimes hums, sometimes coherent words and sometimes just static They seemed to come and go and effected his mood and changed the way the wind blew. As disturbing as everything as the incoherent blob of reality smothered in front of him was, he managed to hold onto some “humanity” through this random reoccurring and comforting thought of how he could now see that everything was connected in a way no one had expected and therefore, he was granted the opportunity to be living a rare truth that not very many could see or respect. The Embrace also had left him further mentally crippled with what was then known as Melancholia, but in modern day, it is commonly known as Bipolar Disorder. He may have lost his humanity and succumb to the beast had Russell been an irresponsible Sire as many Malkavian are, but Russell managed to teach Peter for ten years before releasing him to the Prince as a member of the Camarilla. During those ten years, amongst other things, Russell helped Peter fight the beast, especially during the depressive episodes that halted his feeding until the Beast began to notice. He also helped Peter learn to cap the Beast during the highs as emotions and passions would easily excite him and rules stopped abiding to that pridefulness networking through his brain.
Another derangement that had befallen him had occurred through the realization that he was now trapped outside of the reality he once knew. The odd humanly memories of how Goddamn awful he had been to his parents and siblings and friends, and the part where he wouldn’t be able to see them, again. His mind circled around this prospect for months until something finally snapped. It snapped during some ambush of hunters trailing on Russell on him when the stress and fear and hostility of the situation just triggered a sudden regression in his behavior. His mind caved for some childish state of thinking, frozen by fear as his hands cupped his ears and body hunched into an eye shut fit of toddler-esque mental shut down. This wasn’t a permanent regression, but the major part of the disorder that would flair up under stressful situations. On its average utility, Peter found himself retentively anal about being clean, only to find himself in some complete mess (example: the obsessive need for having fingernails that do not have dirt underneath them are cleaned until he was bleeding and there was no hope for making them actually clean).
Peter generally tries to stay out of the drama of the Masquerade, which isn't always easy as a Malkavian. However, as push comes to shove, maybe Russell did do Peter some good because with all the chaos running amuck, the strangest sensation for duty has Peter's attention. The attention is, of course, an incoherent mess of wonderment and terror, but it is there. And, Peter has no will power to fight against nor ignore it.
Personality: Although most Malkavians tend to be loners willingly, Peter seemed to stray from that path as someone who was just a loner simply because he had no idea how to make friends under the state of which he was. Through the years, the failed attempts mounted some more insanity as he forced through the hopelessness and became even more awkward to be around. He managed to procure three retainers over the course of things. On occasion he requests one to accompany him while he rests during the day as some sort of comfort object, which he generally cherishes quite obsessively. And, like all Malkavians he is a jokester. It could be his jokes that actually make him the most off-putting (one does not joke about eating vampires, and Peter becomes frustrated trying to contain such manic jesting), but from Peter’s point of view, his jokes are really just there to help the outside world understand.
Major Russell Bell1 was a soldier in the Continental Army and consequently Embraced on the battlefield after falling to enemy in the Battle of Monmouth during the American Revolution. As vampires (especially in this Malkavian’s case) sometimes do, they migrate to different locations for one reason or another. However, prior to Russell’s journey from the East Coast to the West Coast, Russell had the unofficial title as the clan’s whip. He also had the honor of getting revenge over the murderer of his Primogen shortly after he was elected into the position as Primogen. It was for this act, the Prince granted him Right of Creation.
1. I might not use the Sire in game; but here he is, anywhoodle.
1. Big Joe is a mortal drug dealer who has bribed a policeman or two or three or more and also has access to some other nifty gigs, like that one time he helped Peter get rid of a dead person without the Prince knowing.
Peter has three Retainer whom make up Peter's Herd and are also known as the Deliroe family:
Frank Deliroe: a '41' year old technician Melissa Deliroe: a '39' year old stay-at-home wife and mother Annie Deliroe: an '8' year old elementary school student and daughter. Domain: Deliroe House
Name: Peter Lapin Alternate Identity: Uncle Scott of the Deliroe Family Age: 17 - 18 / 106 Species: Kindred, Malkavian, 12th Generation (Neonate), Camarilla Derangements Bipolar/Anal Retentive
Biography: Peter Lapin was only a small child when his family immigrated from the over turned Imperial Russian regime. Bloodshed and starvation had slaughtered the country in waves of anarchy and chaos. However, Peter has no concrete recollection of this hectic event as he was shuffled by his father, a high standing military General Major in the Russian Calvary, and his mother, a Petersburg Society Princess, by boat from Russia to America. As “White Russians,” his family was welcomed by the United States government. However, the older and significantly less wealthy generation of Russian immigrants were not at all as welcoming towards the influx of displaced Russian aristocracy planting new roots into the American soil. There was a defeatist mindset that set the tone in the Lapin household as his father took up low-wage manual labor and toiled amongst Russians that had nothing but disdain for his class’s attitude when under the Imperial Russian regime.
It was years into the settling of the Lapin family into the vineyard fields of California when Peter’s parents started noticing Peter was behaving in an abnormal manner. It seemed like something that had happened over night, or perhaps, it had been gradual and had somehow gone unnoticed until just yesterday. He as in his later adolescent years, which did warrant some kind of excuse—a cutting of apron strings, so to speak, but both felt something deeper was causing the sudden shift in behavior. They also had no particular way of confronting the situation as the guilt of their distinguishable reputation had caused much rejection placed on the family, and the need for Peter to uphold his behavior was rather unbending in a chilling way. Nonetheless, his parents ignorantly decided on working towards begging for their son’s forgiveness, hoping that an open heart would bring back the young man they thought they had raised. It was one thing to begin holding the burden of the death of their very own Divinely Crowned Emperor, but to see the distaste in their son as their respect continued to be stripped away from them was another thing. Of course, they didn’t have an abundance of time (due to the growth in the family and long hours worked) to make any huge or lasting alterations to how Peter was reared, and so, the behavior preceded until one day, they never heard from him, again.
Behind the veil of what was tempting Peter to act out started off as a small bribe of rebelliousness that slowly formed into the meeting of 11th Generation Malkavian, Major Russell Bell. Perhaps it was the odd intelligence and stereotypical light-hearted dark humor weaved into the Russian culture of his family that made the Malkavian take notice of their sturdy, young boy, peddling his feet through the dark farm roads one night—naively looking for non permitted adventure or something otherwise known as trouble. He didn’t find any such thing before making his disappointedly relieved way back home, but the trouble definitely found him. Russell spent several years off-handedly studying the boy before making any decision to make himself known to the mortal, and when he did become known, he simply made the boy his ghoul. He was roughly the age of sixteen or seventeen when it happened. Peter can’t really remember how old he was when the first drop of vitae touched his tongue. He also does not remember the taste as he’s more concerned with the taste of mortal vitae, particularly of the human variety.
However, he does remember something about a Sabbat attack that left him injured to such an extent, Russell decided to Embrace him, become his sire. It was definitely one thing to be drinking a monthly drop or two of Malkavian vitae every month, but it was a whole different animal (if that is what one would call it) to become one let alone live as one for eternity. Peter made it through the Embrace. “Crazy Jane” maybe helped him, or maybe it was Russell’s nursing him for a while before the Embrace, but whatever it was—nothing was the same. There was no trying to look through the world from a different angle to make things seem normal or close to normal or even remotely normal. Normal wasn’t even a concept he could grasp. There had been maybe a smidgen of hope that he’d get used to this state, but he quickly forgot what he was even hoping for as time went on. Everything just was, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.
The beginning of being a Malkavian was like being in a strange cage of deranged voices that were sometimes quiet, sometimes whispers, sometimes hums, sometimes coherent words and sometimes just static They seemed to come and go and effected his mood and changed the way the wind blew. As disturbing as everything as the incoherent blob of reality smothered in front of him was, he managed to hold onto some “humanity” through this random reoccurring and comforting thought of how he could now see that everything was connected in a way no one had expected and therefore, he was granted the opportunity to be living a rare truth that not very many could see or respect. The Embrace also had left him further mentally crippled with what was then known as Melancholia, but in modern day, it is commonly known as Bipolar Disorder. He may have lost his humanity and succumb to the beast had Russell been an irresponsible Sire as many Malkavian are, but Russell managed to teach Peter for ten years before releasing him to the Prince as a member of the Camarilla. During those ten years, amongst other things, Russell helped Peter fight the beast, especially during the depressive episodes that halted his feeding until the Beast began to notice. He also helped Peter learn to cap the Beast during the highs as emotions and passions would easily excite him and rules stopped abiding to that pridefulness networking through his brain.
Another derangement that had befallen him had occurred through the realization that he was now trapped outside of the reality he once knew. The odd humanly memories of how Goddamn awful he had been to his parents and siblings and friends, and the part where he wouldn’t be able to see them, again. His mind circled around this prospect for months until something finally snapped. It snapped during some ambush of hunters trailing on Russell on him when the stress and fear and hostility of the situation just triggered a sudden regression in his behavior. His mind caved for some childish state of thinking, frozen by fear as his hands cupped his ears and body hunched into an eye shut fit of toddler-esque mental shut down. This wasn’t a permanent regression, but the major part of the disorder that would flair up under stressful situations. On its average utility, Peter found himself retentively anal about being clean, only to find himself in some complete mess (example: the obsessive need for having fingernails that do not have dirt underneath them are cleaned until he was bleeding and there was no hope for making them actually clean).
Peter generally tries to stay out of the drama of the Masquerade, which isn't always easy as a Malkavian. However, as push comes to shove, maybe Russell did do Peter some good because with all the chaos running amuck, the strangest sensation for duty has Peter's attention. The attention is, of course, an incoherent mess of wonderment and terror, but it is there. And, Peter has no will power to fight against nor ignore it.
Personality: Although most Malkavians tend to be loners willingly, Peter seemed to stray from that path as someone who was just a loner simply because he had no idea how to make friends under the state of which he was. Through the years, the failed attempts mounted some more insanity as he forced through the hopelessness and became even more awkward to be around. He managed to procure three retainers over the course of things. On occasion he requests one to accompany him while he rests during the day as some sort of comfort object, which he generally cherishes quite obsessively. And, like all Malkavians he is a jokester. It could be his jokes that actually make him the most off-putting (one does not joke about eating vampires, and Peter becomes frustrated trying to contain such manic jesting), but from Peter’s point of view, his jokes are really just there to help the outside world understand.
Major Russell Bell1 was a soldier in the Continental Army and consequently Embraced on the battlefield after falling to enemy in the Battle of Monmouth during the American Revolution. As vampires (especially in this Malkavian’s case) sometimes do, they migrate to different locations for one reason or another. However, prior to Russell’s journey from the East Coast to the West Coast, Russell had the unofficial title as the clan’s whip. He also had the honor of getting revenge over the murderer of his Primogen shortly after he was elected into the position as Primogen. It was for this act, the Prince granted him Right of Creation.
1. I might not use the Sire in game; but here he is, anywhoodle.
1. Big Joe is a mortal drug dealer who has bribed a policeman or two or three or more and also has access to some other nifty gigs, like that one time he helped Peter get rid of a dead person without the Prince knowing.
Peter has three Retainer whom make up Peter's Herd and are also known as the Deliroe family:
Frank Deliroe: a '41' year old technician Melissa Deliroe: a '39' year old stay-at-home wife and mother Annie Deliroe: an '8' year old elementary school student and daughter. Domain: Deliroe House
@Ezekiel, are Lasombra (Sabbat) characters also allowed, or would that be too conflicting for this story?
Edit: Also, is there a limit to the clans we can use, core vs the sub-clans (i.e. Gangrel vs Ravnos). My knowledge is is based off V:TM 1st/2nd edition rules/books but figured I'd ask.
Apparently Yanci's cover identify is named Catlin Monroe. Not sure I forgot that in my character sheet...
Well, it was when we started writing that post, can change if you don't want that anymore.
@Ezekiel, are Lasombra (Sabbat) characters also allowed, or would that be too conflicting for this story?
Edit: Also, is there a limit to the clans we can use, core vs the sub-clans (i.e. Gangrel vs Ravnos). My knowledge is is based off V:TM 1st/2nd edition rules/books but figured I'd ask.
Sabbat Characters are allowed, although the current situation in LA somewhat forces them to abide by the Masquerade as it is, Sabbat don't have the strength to fight of the Anarchs/Camarilla combined in LA, even if they are pushing North with the fractious situation.
Sub-clans and such are allowed, if their presence can be explained.
The IC is now open for business, things to consider;
Anarchs/Camarilla/Sabbat who are switched on enough to remember why the fighting started will recall that the artifacts that originated the conflict are either missing or the elders of a certain faction aren't saying if they have them.
The Sunset Lounge is a safe haven for ALL things Supernatural, you can be there and not be auto-lynched regardless. The curb outside is a different matter.
The Anarchs are still the de jure rulers of the city, but no one can remember who the Baron is now, there's basically np chain of succession left.
The Camarilla are 'probably' going to send in a new Prince, if the Cam aligned groups don't prop up a Prince of their own.
People currently pin the 'Elder Murders' on Smiling Jack, who is AWOL. It's a city wide murder mystery.
btw @Ezekiel I still need to add the Venture's inherent "blood type restriction" in case you happen to question that, but it'll prob surface in my intro post once the CS is approved.
btw @Ezekiel I still need to add the Venture's inherent "blood type restriction" in case you happen to question that, but it'll prob surface in my intro post once the CS is approved.
That's fine, it's an innate part of the clan so I'd assume it was there anyway.
