Ezekiel

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Fear

The scent was in the air, calling to the hunger, the Beast within.

She could taste it in the air. While food would never have the same appeal to her, emotions, natural responses, they made her taste buds fire.

Even when the fear was her own.

She did not breathe anymore, not truly, but sometimes in moments of heightened sensation, her form went through the motions, forgetting that she was quite dead. Now was certainly one of those times, her chest heaving to breathe in air she did not need, expelling it with the exact composition she inhaled it.

For a dead person she was fast. She was fast for any person at all, some would say impossibly fast, barely more than a blur to the eye of any mortal. For the first time in her unlife it wasn't fast enough. She could sense it behind her, not from hearing or touch, even if those too had been enhanced by her untimely demise years ago. No, it was supernatural dread that kept her informed that whatever was moving after her was certainly still there. If she'd had a moment to stop, she could likely have been able to ponder on whether this is how humanity felt in the presence of her kind.

She had no time for existential questions, however, all her ability to think was devoted to keeping her moving and desperately planning a way out. The Brujah had run the rooftops on many an occasion, although perhaps not quite this high up. She lunged through the air from skyscraperer to skyscraper, feeling the gradual pull of gravity begin to tug at her each time before her blood-bound gifts carried her to her intended target. The latest jump was further than she could comfortably managed and so her landing became a crashing roll. She snarled in pain as her ankles collapsed on themselves, but the Beast soon silenced the pain, her eyes flaring as vampiric vitae rushed to heal the injury in a matter of moments.

She didn't have a few moments alas, and a much heavier thud than her own landing signalled the arrival of her pursuer. Unlike her, it needed no time to recover, she could feel it moving closer through the chrome. In one swift motion the Kindred rolled on her back, the darkness of night lit up by the muzzle flash of her sidearm. Whatever it was, it was huge. Fur lined it's vast form, interrupted by the tatters of business suit which still clung to it. It had been a human, she'd seen it...shift...into this thing. A Hollywood nightmare made real. The gunshots thudded into flesh, but the rounds fell away, even more useless than it would have been on one of her own kind.

"W....W...Werewolf." She sputtered, the thought finally reaching her mind, now that she had time to study the beast. She'd been a little busy running.

The word seemed to only pull another growl from the creature as it stopped down, one huge claw gripped around the Brujah's body, her struggles to free herself as inconsequential as the spasms of a fly stuck to paper. It's palm almost entirely encompassed her neck and shoulders both, crushing her tightly with but a fraction of its power.

"You kind have been warned...The Valley is ours." Despite it's huge canine-like jaws, it spoke discernably, it's wolf-like lips moving unnaturally to do so, as if it took a strength of will to not simply howl in rage at her actions. "A message will be sent." It spoke again, the heavy thud of its rear paws trembling across the chrome once again.

"I....I can bro...bring you mess...message." She gasped between crushed breathes, her form squirming beneath the beast's tight grip.

"You shall." It growled again, before there was a sudden rush of movement. The Brujah spun, turning end over end, and that brief kiss of gravity from before returned, then grasped her. Undead lungs that had no need to breathe emptied as she screamed, the curse of unlife keeping her awake and alive for the duration of her plummet.

"This city...will be ours."

The Sunset Lounge

"Now Gentlemen, I don't really think I could be any more fucking clear."

Americans loved a British accent, it was a widely known fact of existence. They loved it until they were staring down the barrel of an incredibly pissed off London accent with a knife big enough to demonstrate just how pissed of they were. This duality of purpose apparently transcended the bounds of life and death.

"I don't have many rules, do I, Connor?" Henry turned slightly from the two men that were currently bound 'tightly' to a pair of rather uncomfortable looking chairs, to speak to another man, currently occupying the doorway. Connor was a smartly dressed man. No amount of suit and tie could ever hide the fact he looked like a rottweiler in human form, however. He was practically bred for violence, tall and broad. He was quite nice when you got to know him, which is why Henry only ever needed him to deal with people he didn't know.

"No Sir, in fact I can only really think of one off the top of my head."

"And what rule is that, may I ask, Connor, ol' buddy o' pal?"

"No fighting, Sir."

"No 'fucking' fighting, aye, that would be it." With that Henry turned back to the two bound men, waving his knife uncomfortably close to the younger's face. "So when, as it so happens, we find you both in a scrap right here where I park my car, my very 'nice' car..."

"We didn't think it counted...outside." The other man humbled, earning him a rather contemptuous look from Henry.

"Oh you didn't think it counted did you? You didn't think my carefully maintained presence of law and order in this damned pissup of a city extended two 'fucking' meters from the back door, did you?" The sound of silence that followed expressed a resolute lack of ability to argue the finer detail of this point. Henry stood, as they stopped talking, rising from his crouching position to his full height, casting the knife aside onto a nearby table.

"As you're both clearly not the brightest bunch, I will be letting you both off with a warning, and a 'do not fucking come back until I say so,' note. And you can tell Nines if any of his lot pull anymore shit like this, I don't care if it's among yourselves, I will come Downtown and shit all over his crappy little bar, not that the smell would get any worse, this clear?" The two kindred nodded frantically.

"Cut them loose Conner and let them out...I've got a shift to get back to."

It took a fair few minutes for Henry to move from the secluded chambers of the Lounge out towards the customer-facing areas. While the shadier business of the man was completed in rooms just about fit for purpose, the staff areas were more than comfortable, and then the Lounge itself, both as a bar and with a few 'very' exclusive guest rooms were some of the nicest in LA, at least he thought so, without reaching the needless tacky levels Hollywood was so keen on.

As he was walking a fresh shirt was provided for him, there were far too many vampires in this damn city for him to walk out even spattered in kindred blood and not cause a scene, least of all a line to lick him clean. He smiled a thank you to that particular member of staff before pausing to change, studying himself in an errant mirror, watching the man looking back at him.

Look How Far You've Fallen

He shook his head, before he finished linking his buttons together, a dark waistcoat thrown on over the top, before exiting out onto the bar, his usual slightly-to-charming-to-be-real smile stretching across his face. That was when he saw her, and paused, immediately. It wouldn't be unusual to stare at a woman like that, her long slender form dressed for the occasion at an establishment like this, probably wasn't the only man in the room doing so right then, but the only one to know who she was, truly. She was often early like she was chasing the Sun, hoping to catch what she could never see.

"Connor, that young woman there, I'd like to see her out on the terrace." Henry spoke as his assistant caught up to him, the door our onto the bar still swinging. He took only a brief moment to track down who Henry was referencing.

"As you say Sir, will you be needing company?"

"No, and neither will she."

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

World of Darkness brings me back. Are we able to use stuff from Mummy: The Resurrection?

@MelodicElement

All the gamelines are ultimately open however there may be some which are more difficult to factor into the roleplay, I'd recommend discussing such things with us on the discord server :)

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Is this open to all applicants? Even neophytes of WoD?

@BurningCold

Absolutely!
Part of the reason to have a discord server is to help coach people through the setting.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Aaaaaaand here they are!

Morgan

“Never be cruel, and never be cowardly.” - The Doctor

Name: Morgan Holloway

Age:Appears early/mid-twenties. Actually one hundred and thirty-two.

Clan: Malkavian

Disciplines: Auspex, Presence, Dementation.

Generation: 10th.

Species: Kindred

Appearance:

Morgan

Morgan is a curvaceous, pear-shaped woman, with fair skin, and soft blonde hair. Her emerald eyes are particularly dazzling, and she has a strong jaw.

Large portions of Morgan’s body are covered in burnt tissue, and warped scars, which her embrace never healed. Huge red marks dominate her right thigh, and much of her right arm is also burnt. The flesh on her right hand is coated with angry red and yellow scars, and the nails in her pinky finger are charred black, and have partially fallen out.

Personality:

Morgan is, mostly, good-natured, but isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, should she need to. She is a determined, steadfast woman, who believes zealously in the cause that she has thrown her un-life behind. Unlike many kindred, she considers the lives of Kine to be sacred, and detests those who treat humans as disposable.

She battles constantly with the derangements of Malkavians, and fights to keep hold of her sanity.

Morgan suffers from PTSD, specifically relating to the death of her sister, Mary, and the fire that killed her. She struggles with intrusive thoughts, and flashbacks, which have become increasingly severe, since her embrace. She is far more fearful of fire than even most other kindred, and is petrified of cramped, enclosed spaces. Morgan’s PTSD has become entwined with the bane of her clan, culminating in her struggling with hallucinations and disembodied voices pertaining to the fire.

Biography:

Morgan Holloway was born to poverty, in London, during the Victorian era. Her childhood was defined by hardship and want, with Morgan and her sister Mary being left to fend for themselves, after their father abandoned them, and their mother died of Scarlet Fever.

Both sisters grew up doing whatever they could to get by, and would come to work as women of the night. They shared a small apartment, in Whitechapel, which was where the events that would come to define both Morgan’s life and un-life took place.

The Whitechapel apartment was broken into by a gang of savage Sabbat brutes, who took great enjoyment in antagonising and torturing the girls. Once they had both been bled, their attackers fled from the building, but not before smashing an oil lamp on the floor, and setting fire to the apartment.

Morgan just about managed to survive the encounter, albeit badly burned, by clambering through a window, and falling into the streets below - which earnt her many-a-broken bone - but the fire claimed Mary’s life.

Morgan was overcome with grief and hysteria, which saw her locked away in a lunatic asylum, which was where she crossed paths with her sire; Doctor Lange. Lange took a macabre interest in Morgan, and ended up embracing her into clan Malkavian.

Morgan later overpowered Lange, killing him, before escaping into the night, which would lead to her eventually crossing paths with Henry Laghari, the leader of one of England’s rising Anarch Movements.

Morgan quickly became enamoured with the Anarch’s, and their righteous cause. With the help of her new comrades, she managed to get a better grasp over her derangements, and felt hope for the first time since her sister’s death. Morgan threw herself into the fight against the Ivory Tower, growing to become fierce and formidable freedom fighter, who sought to liberate all kindred from the cold grip of despotic elders.

Although she would never recover from Mary’s death, Morgan Holloway had found new family, amidst the Anarch’s of London.

It was during this time, skirting through London-by-Night, that Morgan became friends with a young kine, called Calantha Teohari.

Calantha became Morgan’s link to the mortal world, and she fought to keep her friend separate from her battles with the supernatural. They grew to become best friends, which made it even more heartbreaking for Morgan when Calantha was embraced by the Angel, and was instrumental in the massacre of her Anarch comrades, including Henry Laghari.

What followed was a bloody game of cat and mouse, with Morgan and Calantha chasing each other across the globe, in a grisly, drawn out battle.

In the year 2020, this has lead Morgan to LA, where she has fallen in with Los Angeles’ Anarch movement. Although Morgan spends her time fighting the good fight, Calantha is constantly at the back of her mind.

Calantha

“Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell.” - Lady Macbeth

Name: Calantha Teohari

Age: (Usually) Appears late teens (seventeen - nineteen). Actually one hundred and twenty-seven.

Clan: Tzimisce

Species: Kindred

Appearance:

Calantha

Much like most of her clan, Calantha’s appearance is everchanging. She has been short, tall, thin, fat, fair-skinned, dark-skinned, and everything in-between. Although she sometimes takes a somewhat androgynous form, Calantha favours a feminine appearance, and refrains from blurring gender boundaries to the extent that many Tzimisce do.

Currently, Calantha accentuates her vampiric features, by making her fangs permanently pronounced, and sharpening her characteristics. She has given her ears a bat-like quality, and pulled sharp spikes of bone through her pale flesh.

Her hair is long, and dark, like flowing shadow, and she has a quality to her that might be described as alien, or elfish.

Disciplines: Animalism, Vicissitude, Auspex.

Generation: 9th (Through diablerie. 11th upon embrace.)

Personality: Inquisitive and bright, above all else, Calantha Teohari is something of a genius, with a burning desire to learn, and to amass more knowledge. Unfortunately, although her inventiveness remains, her kindness and compassion were burnt away, through a combination of the horrific torture she suffered at the hands of The Angel, and her years spent serving as a member of the Sabbat.

Calantha now actively draws enjoyment from inflicting suffering and pain in others, particularly her unwilling test subjects. She has grown more and more sadistic over the decades, largely due to the fact that she developed a fondness for embracing, and then diablerizing, serial killers, so that she can collect their twisted souls.

Biography:

Calantha Teohari was born in the Victorian era, as a child of the Teohari Household, a family of secretive sorcerers, who had extensive ties to the Cult of Bacchus. Calantha was raised in a loving household, who rejected the conservative dogma of the age, and encouraged her budding curiosity. Although the Teohari operated in the shadows, and hid their true nature from the world, they schooled Calantha in their traditions from a young age, striving to give her the most fulfilling and liberated life possible.

As a young woman, Calantha became close friends with Morgan Holloway, a strange and mysterious, yet ultimately kind-hearted girl, who seemed only to appear at night time. Both out-spoken and warmhearted souls, it did not take long for the pair to become inseparable.

Then one day, the Teohari Household was torn apart by the servants of a depraved monster, called “The Angel”, and all but Calantha were butchered.

The Angel kept Calantha alive for its own amusement, inflicting disgusting torture upon her. She was torn apart, and put back together again, over, and over, and over, by monstrous acts of flesh crafting, until her spirit was as broken as her body.

After weeks of appaling torment, the Calantha Teohari which the Angel came to sire bore few similarities to the one which it had captured.

In a sick act of pettiness, the Angel sent Calantha to spearhead its crusade against London’s underground Anarch movement, of which Morgan was a member.

Over the next few decades, the Angel groomed Calantha as its apprentice, believing her to be completely and utterly subservient to it, until the day she overpowered it, and drank its soul.

Time passed, and Calantha fled to the “new world”, with Morgan on her tail the whole while. She developed a new favourite pass time; tracking serial killers, embracing them, and then diablerizing them, just as she had the Angel.

Eventually, Calantha became acquainted with the West Coast Sabbat, whom she became an enthusiastic member of.

Although she outwardly serves the Sabbat, Calantha is only truly loyal to herself, and uses the Sword Of Cain as a means to further her own dark, and depraved ambitions.

@Bloodrose

Grace

Name: Grace Liu (current code name)
Age: 43, looks like she’s 43
Species: Mage
Powers/Skill: Spheres From best to worst: Correspondence, Mind, Entropy, Forces, Life, Time
Arete: 5

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, even being comically blunt at times. Grace doesn’t relax much, and tries to avoid prolonged bouts of introspection.

Biography:
Grace’s birth name is Margaret Yu; that identity has long since been abandoned. From an early age she excelled academically, almost equally in the humanities and the hard sciences. Her awakening as a mage happened in her college years; then she was something of a free spirit, looking for knowledge from both traditional and nontraditional sources. She was determined to know more about the world and more about herself, for the former she devoured books and changed majors constantly, for the latter she turned to more esoteric methods, like meditation and psychedelic drugs. This brought her to the attention of the Technocracy, who began observing her. Her psychedelic explorations also lead her to make friends with some members of the Cult of Ecstasy, having respect for their quest of avoiding staticness and self-improvement.

The Technocracy took a gentle approach to recruiting her, slowly explaining the conflicts behind the scenes and guiding her through it all. By contrast, the Ecstatics told her nothing, just waiting to see what she would discover on her own. They believed in letting her learn to help herself, even when she faced trauma from the failure of her first seeking. She resented them and devoted herself more deeply to the scientific paradigm, and then the Technocracy made their formal request for her to join.
She saw the decision to join as making a choice between personal excellence and a greater mission, one for the benefit of the world. When she made the decision to join she had only one request, one they were happy to honor: she wanted to be unconflicted, wholly committed to the cause, without any risk that her uncertainties would rise again and jeopardize her mission. They obliged and removed her memories of her time with the ecstatics and any lingering doubts she had, to this day she doesn’t know what happened to any of her former friends. After that day, she became the woman she would be from then on, Grace Liu.

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. One of the few duties she actively enjoys rather than merely tolerates is mentoring younger agents, like her subordinate Julie.

NPCs:

Julie

Julia Stapledon

Grace's subordinate within the NWO, recently awakened and inexperienced. She grew up in abusive survivalist cult and is very happy to be out of it now, still getting a grasp on normal living. Her cover identity is as a journalist/science youtuber, she performs this role with much enthusiasm.

@Fiber

I accept you both, huzzah.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Cereiella Faewyld - Cara Fennic

Age: 19/19
Species: Sidhe Changeling
Court: Seelie
House: Eiluned
Legacies: Regent/Rake
Powers/Skill: As one of the Sidhe, returned from the Dreaming in recent years, Cara boasts the typical powers of Fae nobility in the form of the Soverign arts, able to inspire, or force, loyalty and protocol in both kithe and others beyond. Something of a taboo among Changeling society since the civil wars which set Noble against Commoner, they are not powers she relies on, nor does she take pleasure in using. Of far greater enjoyment to the capricious noble is her skill in chicanery, the befuddlement and manipulation of others in a far less direct means. Deemed a little beneath the nobility by others of her kind, she has mastered this art none the less above all others. Finally, as befits a Noble seeking to establish far-flung freehold, Cara possesses some skill in the art of Wayfaring, able to travel the Trods of her people, across the world and into the Dreaming.
Appearance: Cara Fennic stands as a human being of great poise, silver-white hair that would drape down her back often tightly styled and maintained. Her grey-white eyes are surprisingly emotive for such a cold colour, although when tested or displeased her focus often becomes unbreaking, the guise of joviality she wears to temper her frost stripped away. She is athletic of build, with a modest, if not waifish, hourglass figure with not quite enough height to be average in length. Her attired ranges from expensive workout gear to bright and eccentric evening gowns, although she certainly has a taste for the expensive. Whatever the case may be, whether it is in accessories or makeup, there is always a dash of purple about her.

Fae Form

Artist: deviantart.com/den3221

Cereiella Faewyld is a being of great supernatural beauty, the glamour that touches all Changelings almost oppressively strong as is the standard with capable scions of the nobility. The almost-human aspects of her form are skin to her human guise but exaggerated beyond them, her hair shines like spun silver, the cold marble of her eyes sparkling in the light, her body formed like the goddess myths of ancient civilisations long swept away by time. None of this compares to the eye-watering sensation of beholding her wings, great purple fae-wings of only the most blessed of her kind, made almost of raw glamour itself, the magic of her arts working to a far greater effect on those who can perceive them.

Personality:

Cara has always had her differences with her fellow Sidhe of the Eiluned Household. While her kind are usually haughty in the extreme, reserved, and focused on the higher arts, Cara feels a deep sense of caring for the world and its people, both Kithe and otherwise. Born into the post-Evavesence world of Chaos, Bedlam and Banality, she has an affection for commoner kithe and humanity which borders on the rebellious tenants of the Shadow Court and more positive Unseelie teachings. Topping all of these, is a sense of wanderlust and exploration, to explore the Trods, to find new experiences and delve deeply into the Dreaming, while never losing her footing back on the mortal realm.

None of this is to say she entirely lacks the superior nature of the Arcadian Sithe, she has, of course, grown up (both as a human and a kithe) in great privilege and taught to wield all aspects of her being as weapons of charm, wit and intrigue. She is supremely self-confident, bordering on foolhardy bravery and a sense of self-invincibility and particularly when her Unseelie nature draws dominant, willing to pursue her whims and desire whatever the cost may be. Her love and affection does not mean she fails to understand the simple truth of reality that the Arcadian Sidhe are born to rule, and she is among them.

Biography:

When the events of the Evanescence took place, bringing yet more Arcadian Sidhe back into the Mortal Realm from the dreaming, they too had to begin shielding their Fae souls from the dangers of Banality within mortal guises. Many were older Fae, taking host-forms without developing the attachments a Kithe generally has for their human body. This was not the case for the nascent Sidhe brought along with the elders, as was the case of Cereiella, one of the first Arcadian Sithe of this new generation to be born and fostered with humanity, as the Changelings are. Befitting of noble of her household, Cereiella's soul was placed in the child of East Coast Billionaires, their fortunes made in shipping long ago, now reinvested into the technology age. As with many of her kind, Cereiella (known as Cara in her human guise) underwent a chrysalis very young, the sheltered nature of her life encouraging the Glamour within her, and she was still a child when she was first allowed to renter the Seelie Court. Here she learned of her event greater privilege and the world of wonders open to her. Still, while her human parents may have been extraordinarily wealthy and doted on her, her family had been large and enough effort was made for her to appreciate her life and those less fortunate that she did not take as wholeheartedly to the regimented life of court. That and her fondness of Childish mischief bled into her mastery of glamour. Unlike her peers she did not simply seek to understand the greater mysteries of the world and the Dreaming, she wished to experience them, and to play a fair few pranks along the way.

The young Changeling was charming enough however that this slight alteration from the behaviour expected of her was treated as a quirk of her personality, an eccentricity that made her company all the more enticing, rather than a scandal to be crushed. Her willingness to discover herself was even useful for the Household. While Commoner Retainers are more than capable, sometimes it is useful to have one of the Sidhe in location to guide matters. In her human life, Cara prepared the means for her to be able to delve into these long trips of discovery, while maintaining the lifestyle to which she was accustom. The young woman, supported by her family contacts, started out as an actress and model, the former predominantly in matters of theatre, the glamour in her voice now doubt pushing her performances well into the higher tier of what is possible for humankind. As her mortal career began to ascend, this coincided with the opportunity of a true quest she had been looking for. Some time following the Evanescence, a dark mirror occurred, far more localised, but all-encompassing. The human city known as Los Angeles was beset with a surge of Banality, a font of disbelief so strong it banished all Changelings from the city and shattered their Freeholds, only the greatest remaining in their dormant state, the life of their glamour flickering low. As with any strike of Banality, the eradication of the Changelings likewise clouded their memory within the minds of other Changelings. All that remained was the pang of loss. When the human Cara Fennic was offered her first role in Hollywood, Cereiella leapt at the opportunity. She would venture to the land gripped by Banality, restore the Freeholds and recover the lost Changelings. She would restore Los Angeles to glamour, surely the youngest Changeling to ever undertake such a task since High King David united the Commoners and Nobility once more.

NPCs:

Several Commoner Changelings who have travelled with her to restore the LA Freeholds.
To be written.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

The Final Nights close in, the time of Ending draws ever sooner. Yet the Lights must always stay on, the music must always play.

Clinging to the Pacific, to the Sunset Coast, Los Angeles has unknowingly sat at the heart of a great experiment for its entire modern history. The Anarch Free State holds 'barely' to unlife as the self-described last home of all free Kindred, fending off efforts from the other Vampiric factions of the world to snuff out its bright, but short in Vampire terms, existence. Vampires, the Kindred, have walked among humanity since the dawn of Civilisation, but rarely since the earliest days have Kindred held sway over the beating heart of human culture as they have from the City of Angels.

Vampires are not alone in the Darkness, however, other beings, malignant and otherwise, stalk the darkness of the Final Nights. The prophesied end of days, the year 2000, never came, and the world has remained ticking along two decades later, but the fragile bonds are showing the strain. Even as the Anarchs watch their Camarilla and Sabbat cousins with growing paranoia, a far more ancient foe of all Kindred has begun to hunt the hunters, staking them up for the Light of Day to expose their sins, if there is even enough left of them to stake up at all.

As all Kindred, all beings know, chaos is a ladder, and for the first time in many years the Throne of Los Angeles seems within reach.

State of Play: Global

This game is set in the World of Darkness as according to the latest source on the matter, the 5th Edition of Vampire: The Masquerade. While there are small alterations to canon as with any game set in the World of Darkness this is the basis from which we draw from. The Gangrel have left the Camarilla, the Lasombra have joined, and the world survived the key date, the year 2000, that was meant to mark the end of all things.

The beings of the other gamelines certainly exist, but the lastest Masquerade edition takes precedent for establishing the current state of the world and what has/has not occurred.

State of Play: Los Angeles

Los Angeles is in anarchy. To some in the Camarilla this may not come as a surprise, this is what they have presumed to be the case since the foundation of the Free State, they do call themselves Anarchs, after all. This, however, is ultimately different. Over the last few decades the overall leadership of LA has been in question, changing hands from Princes to Barons and back again. Sebastian LeCroix was the last Kindred to having any real claim to praxis of LA, and he did so in the name of the Camarilla. Even then, the outer districts of the city remained firmly in Anarch hands.

Behind the throne, however, the ancient Toreador, known to many as simply 'The Kid' was the real power in LA, and indeed, much of the wider Anarch Free State. It was his influence, admittedly erratic at the best of times, that has kept the Shining Beacon of Hollywood from ripping itself apart in Supernatural frenzy. Recently, the Kid has failed, gone or dead, it matters little to the Kindred and Kine of the city of who few even knew of his existence. In his place, true Anarchy, and a throne of legend revealed and left empty.

Rivalry is not the only, even the greatest, threat to LA however. An ancient evil draws closer, awakening conflicts far older than the city, than the entire nation, weaving a web of intrigue that closes tightly around the Kindred and other beings of LA. The Glasswalkers, Garou with supreme command of technology and other arts of great power in these modern nights, have begun to work far more actively to seek out and destroy the Kindred they share the city with, and the human hunters of the supernatural have grown ever more powerful and accurate in their crusade. The Final Nights draw near.

OOC
Hi there and thanks for reading! The above is a basic plot introduction for a World of Darkness game centred on Los Angeles during the current year. The world did not, as it happened, end in the year 2000 as many within the setting believed. This game ultimately centers around the Kindred (Vampires) of the setting but players are more than capable of creating other characters, be they ghouls, humans or other such unrelated, directly, to the Kindred. This is a largely 'open world' game within the setting of LA with a unifying threat and storyline. Expect both Garou (Werewolves) and very ancient vampires to play a part in this.

A general disclaimer as with any World of Darkness game is that game 'canon' is ultimately flexible and is more reliant on what the GMs believe suits the story. Part of the great joy of the setting is it's flexibility and that will certainly come through in this game. That said, 'canon' characters or variant of them are certainly open for players to pick up, just discuss it with me first.

Other such rules include an appreciation for the character of the rp, while it is freeform, there is an over reaching plot and a theme. We're talking clandestine creatures and beings of the supernatural in a grim reflection of our own reality, not unstoppable beings of ancient darkness free from all consequences. If you have any questions about that, feel free to pose them here or in our discord.

Character Sheet
Name:
Age; (actual/appearance)
Species: (Kindred, human, werewolf, kuei-jin etc)
Powers/Skill: (Including Disciplines/Equivalents for other gamelines)
Generation: (If Kindred, or other gameline power ranking)
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).

Character Sheets should be posted in the OOC or DM'd to me, then placed in the character tab when accepted.

Discord Link: https://discord.gg/fkGBmZ9

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

roleplayerguild.com/topics/182413-our…

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

-Reserved-

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Hi folks as I've had enough interest shown I'm going to start working on an OOC.

In the meantime, hit me up in our new shiny discord server: discord.gg/3gaf9HG

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Already wrote up a char, baby.

@Sini

Look at your Mr Fancy Pants.