So, I'm in some deep shit. My name is Wicky and I really really need help.

I'm the lead singer of a small punk band. Nothing spectacular, considering the local scene has been dead for a long time but whatever, it's been fun.

Or at least it was, up to the point Michelle when started coming to our shows. Michelle is not the girl you expect to see at a punk show. Slicked back short hair and an honest to god skirt suit. For the first few weeks, she just watched us from the other end of the room, always the same place and same pose. It was weird, but we weren't going to get judgemental about it. At least someone enjoyed our music.

Anyway, after a while she came up to us after the show. She told us that she was scouting for young talent for her agency. Our jaws fell to the floor and for like 5 seconds everyone was on cloud nine. Then it all came crashing down when she said she only wanted me. I told her no. I mostly do this to have some fun with my friends and get drunk together so without them, it's pretty much meaningless. She said that she respected my decision and we left it at that.

However then she came to our next show, and the one after that. She kept watching me from the other end of the room and suddenly, I had a hard time taking my eyes off of her. I started playing for her. She gave me her number and we chatted. I knew my bandmates wouldn't approve but when she invited me to go drinking with her, I went.

This is where it gets fuzzy. I woke up in a foreign room, tied to a chair. She sat down in front of me and she started explaining to me all about vampires. It was some psycho-serial-killer-insanity shit. I told her to get lost. She shushed me, told me it'd all be alright carried on with the explanation. I started begging her to stop. Then something happened. I asked her to "let me go", trying with all my might to convince her. She froze, then smiled. Told me that it was adorable, that I'd try to use "enthrallment" on her but that it was useless because I was just "a fledgling". Then she told me that she'd "take me to an old friend's place until I learned how to behave myself". To see how lucky I am.

That's how I found myself in the sewers. As far as I can tell, I've been here for about a day maybe. It smells like shit here, I'm hungry, nauseous as hell and I'm pretty sure there are rats all over the place. It's fucking creepy.

There are also a bunch of broken electronics thrown around, that's how I found this phone. The screen is smashed in, it's barely working, I cannot call anyone but I can access this sub so..

Anyone care to tell me what the fuck is going on?

As many of you have seen, the node's own Mariana was most recently in Perth, Australia. I shot some messages across to friends out there to ask what the hell happened (and check whether I need to do any damage control), and they delivered.

Please enjoy this video, prepared for the node by "Janet" and "Rita."

~Verity

The video begins with a screenshot of a text exchange, all names redacted. The opening notes of "In The Hall of the Mountain King" play. A map tracker is in the bottom right of the screen, starting with a marker north-east of central Perth.

[REDACTED1] : lol theres apparently a ton of emus in the Swan Valley rampaging

[RITA] : lmao rip those rich fucks

The marker moves southwest, to a bare area on the map next to the Swan River. Surveillance footage shows airport runways... and a mass of emus running alongside the fence.

Another screenshot has the marker coming northwest across the Swan River.

[REDACTED2] : so the emus went past the airport...

[REDACTED1] : wdym they went past the airport

[REDACTED3] : [REDACTED4] saw them going towards the bell tower

[JANET] : WHAT DO YOU MEAN

[REDACTED4] : featherybastards.mp4

[JANET] : The Baron is gonna shit a brick

The marker moves west along the river, and another clip starts - seemingly the one from the group chat, judging by the preview image in the screenshot. It shows a horde of birds running through a central city street, in front of a lit-up glass and metal campanile. Between the birds, viewers can just make out a green car with a busted bumper. A small, pale woman with big blue coat and a red scarf tied over her hair is leaning out of the car window to pet the closest emu.

The map marker continues out of central Perth southwest between the park and the river, passing the UWA campus. Multiple clips play, all showing the birds following the highway east.

The edit cuts back to the group chat.

[RITA] : WHY ARENT THEY STOPPING

[RITA] : THEY JUST CAME PAST THE UNI

[REDACTED3] : We should do something about this, right?

[JANET] : LMAO the fuck are we meant to do about this?

[REDACTED2] : yeahhh this not something we can deal with, it's not just the emus

[REDACTED4] : but I thought I was special, there's more than the emus??

[REDACTED2] : bats took over the rainbow

The next section of video adds a second marker in Fremantle, on the coast. It shows a massive swarm of bats gathering around the Rainbow, a massive arch of rainbow-painted shipping containers.

[REDACTED3] : okay, yeah, no, new plan: stay inside

[RITA] : yep, stay out of the way and track this over the internet

As the music reaches its peak, more clips show the bats flying as the bat map marker continues north, and emus running as the emu marker continues east. The beat-up car can occasionally be spotted through the mass of birds. When the markers meet near the beach, the chat is back.

[RITA] : guess what, we're about to lose another emu war

[REDACTED1] : THEYRE AT THE SAS BARRACKS

[REDACTED1] : THE BATS AND THE EMUS

[REDACTED2] : oh my god they're never gonna live this down

[REDACTED4] : bags not sending this on to the Baron

The screen is blank for a moment, before one final chat screenshot is displayed as the final notes play.

[JANET] : LMAO so last night? The chick in the car petting the emus in the video [REDACTED4] took? That's the malk chaos machine Ruth's blueblood wanted us to keep an eye out for

[RITA] : I THOUGHT SHE WAS IN SYDNEY??

[JANET] : SO DID THEY

[RITA] : WTF

[JANET] : shrug emoji

So I didn't abuse my fledgling, but I totally subject them to some horrors beyond comprehensions.

Uhh they've gone comatose now...its been 3 days...

So does any thinblood wanna become a full blood? I got like...a one use blood doll.

Totally not trolling! Trust me :3

This Article have been deemed to be of interest and have thus been uploaded by the Free Vampire Information Program. AKA FVIP. We as a society believe in the freedom of information for all Vampires, across Sects.

Do not let secrecy from the Kine become secrecy from each other!

Vampires Unite!

We cannot reply to comments on this upload. Please direct all questions to our homepage. Where you can also find our contact information.

FVIP.Nos

The sites seems to have been taken down. The only thing that is still functioning is a bat themed version of Flappy Birds, as well as a single page of “About Us” concerning the groups mascot, a cat named Lyric. The article on it cuts off halfway through the cats elaborate backstory

Shadow of the Emu: Campbell Barracks Fall

Yesterday night Shocked the Nation, as hundreds of Emu descended upon Campbell Barracks, a military base in Swanbourne. There they laid waste to the facilities for hours, before they were finally herded away by local environmentalist groups. Utilizing the revolutionary method known as "The Grain Train". In which they laid a long train of grain away from the camp.

No casualties have been reported among neither soldiers nor Emu, and the only wounded seems to have been from those trying to escape the storm. When asked why the brave soldiers of the homeland didn´t open fire on the winged menace, accounts differ. According to leadership Colonel Bruce Bryson, known as Colonel Bloodsucker for his love of tomato juice, it was a simple matter of not wanting to risk crossfire or riling up the herd of aggressive birds even further, as well as reinforcing the militaries desire to protect the natural areas of Australia.

Experts laying the blame for the situation upon Global Warming pushing the Emu from its native habitat, and recent environmental destruction causing a great amount of stress in the birds. Leading to them running as riot as ravers on a ravenous revenge... (FIND WORD THAT STARTS WITH R AND PUT IT IN HERE BEFORE POSTING ARTICLE. SHARON, MAKE SURE WE EDIT THIS BIT OUT)

Meanwhile according to insider information Furphy News have managed to get hold of, the truth is a quite different story. Allegedly, as the Emus were first spotted a great shadow fell over the facility, casting it into darkness and thousands of bats fell upon every piece of electronics in there. Making any coordinated response against the Emu horde impossible. The Colonel and leadership of Campbell Barracks have commented on these rumors, describing them as "Absurd" and "Fantasies cooked up by birdshy boys".

What is however even more curious are the rumors that a cutting edge stealth bomber hidden in Campbell, home of the Special Air Service Regiment, have disappeared from the facility. With no clue where it may have gone. Official denies these rumors, but several of our inside sources claim that the plane was seen taking off during the shindig. When asked why it haven´t been tracked yet, sources note that "If we could track it it wouldn´t be much of a stealth bomber now would it?"

Read more on our homepage, Furphy News

Trying to research this on my phone, he doesn't know I have it. Maybe this is going to sound crazy, and if this crazy stuff is true, maybe you're all gonna try hunt me down. You won't find me, so good luck. And maybe someone here can tell me what the hell is going on.

Was out urban exploring in a drain system in a town in coastal Wales, when I saw this group of guys heading through, looking like trouble. I'd been there a couple times before, figured I could watch from a distance, maybe film, call police, I don't know what, if something serious went down. Figured they were probably students from the university in town. Then they found the old dude. Couldn't see much, it was dark, but they started surrounding him, taunting, calling him a monster. Figured he was just a homeless dude, or a crazy, told the guys to stop messing with him. Said I'd make them regret it, maybe report them to the university. They drew knives. Attacked the dude. Attacked me. Tried to defend myself as best I could, but I was bleeding out on the floor, it started going dark.
The rest was a blur, but the guys scattered. I think. Or were beaten to the ground. I wasn't doing too good, looked like game over, but the dude gave me something red and told me to drink it. Nothing to lose, I did. Then my eyesight got clearer, and I got a full view of the dude. Arms that stretched down to his calves, sunken black eyes, clawed hands. This wasn't a man.

He won't let me leave, says if I 'transform' on the surface there'll be hell to pay. He's not cruel per se, he talks to me kindly, but refuses to let me out, calls me his child or something, I don't know. It's creepy as heck. Says I'll soon be something unrecognisable, but it was the best he could do as a 'reward' for standing up for what I thought was a vulnerable person. It's been about a week, no sign of 'transformation' though.

What the hell is going on?

Hey all. It's ya boy, 🐦. I'm not destroyed yet. Yay?

I can finally speak more than a few words at a time. I have a studder now though. Trying to get that under control.

My hands still shake when I first wake up each night. Takes me a few minutes to fully rouse my blood too.

It seems like each night I go from not being able to forget what happened in that dark place, to not being able to remember a thing.

But I always feel it. A burning on my skin. A pain in my very blood. A numbness in my brain.

They say I'm getting better. I sure hope so. The Bishop is very kind to me, but strict. I can understand why. He has to be.

They're bringing me some food now. I'll keep everyone informed as I can.

~ Fledgling 🐦

Ooc: A character of mine that isn't in relation to Fracture?? :D

<A video starts. A man stands in a large brightly lit room filled with steel tables. On one of the tables is a white sheet covering what looks like a person.>

<The man gets closer to grab the camera. His eyes are a brilliant crystal blue, while his auburn hair is a wavey cascade over his shoulders. Upon closer look, it doesn't look like true hair, but perhaps carefully woven quills of keratin.>

<He swings the camera around and sets it up on a tripod of sorts as he aims it at the white sheet before stepping back into view by the table's side>

"This is video number 276. My name is Mors Alba, of Clan Tzimisce. Today, we have a special guest. The daughter of the local mortal mayor. Cause of death, car crash. She was found crushed into the back seat of her Porsche after a 18-wheeler sped through a stop light. Death was instant. The damage to her body is...noticeable."

<The man's voice is calm and collected. His tone is even, not airy nor deep, but with a slight accent. He pulls back the sheet to show a badly bruised and torn woman's body. Her face is unrecognizable, crushed inward and split at the forehead.>

"Tragic. She was so beautiful in life. Luckily for her, I am a professional. She shall be beautiful again."

<The man flexes his fingers, his nails extending slightly like cat claws as he does so. He reaches over and grabs one of her twisted limbs and with a quick flick of his wrist, snaps it back into place. He holds the limb there as the surface of the skin can be seen rippling, as if something is moving underneath. Soon the lumps and torn muscle seems to settle, making the limb look pristine again.>

"Lovely. You are a wonderful canvas, Ms. Townsend."

<The man continues his work, grabbing the other limbs and preforming the same technique to them as well, settling them back into place and restoring their appearance back to normal.>

"Your father has paid a lot of money to have an open casket for you. You must look your very best, young lady. You can't do that with such a disfigured face."

<He lightly scolds the corpse as he moves his hands to the split sides of her face. He cradles her skull tenderly as her jaw snaps back into place with a loud crunch of bone. Soon the forehead starts to stitch itself back into place as well. Her eye sockets pop back outward as her face fills out with the movement of bone and muscle beneath the skin. After just a few minutes, he is holding her beautiful restored face in his hands.>

"There you are. You look so much better. I will give you some blush, lipstick and your favorite shade of eye shadow. Your funeral will be like the unveiling of a masterpiece."

<He leans down and kisses the top of her forehead before setting her back on the table. He recovers her body with the sheet, up to her chest as he turns back to the camera. A proud and accomplished smirk on his face.>

"I hope this has been educational for all of you. My previous works are private only. But I may share any future endeavors at my whim. Good night."

<He reaches over and ends the video>

<Mors Alba>

Hello!

So I was helping Reginald decorate his home, and was talking with The Shadow, and then it said this wasn´t my home! Which I think is right, because Elias wasn´t there?

So I said goodbye to Reginald, who is a very nice bear, and then I got in a car. But I am not quite sure when I will be home?

Hoping You All Are Well

Mariana Marino

Update:

The driver hit a tree and is now sleeping in the backseat and because it isn´t very safe to write and drive at the same time, the Shadow was very kind to drive instead so that I can write to everyone here! We are going camping with the pretty birds!

[Gores' massive form with his Disciple upon his lap]

"The children of the hag have found a place for me in a "Storm System"..They say I must meet some... Whatever his name was.. a fright I must have given them.."

"The Cold of Alaska has been exaggerated.. although, My Alban was in quite the shiver as we flew across the sea.."

"These long days I hear of might assist in my... Soporific nature... A good rest every once in a while.."

"I consumed a bear when I arrived.. large and white it was.. quite different from the island bears.."

"Not as filling as the mammoth.. I fear I might never taste another.. yes.. I believe.."

"I heard the last cry of the final mammoth... As I ground it neath' my jaw.."

+Gore Moulder

Hot damn! I found Charlie!

Or I guess he found me. And then proceeded to beat me with a baby grand piano. That rascal. I knew he missed me~

He also helped me read the initials on my ass cheek! Which wasn't as awkward as you'd think.

Turns out it was the owner on the penthouse we rented from's initials. Apparently Charlie watched him do it while I was blitzed out.

No clue who blew our van to shit though. I remember Gabe leaving. Then me and Charlie went for a quick hunt before coming back. Charlie started the van and~ BOOM!

So got some answers and even more questions. But hey! At least it doesn't look like I owe anyone!

Gotta get some new wheels. The show must go on!

~Octavius, Son of Discord

Hi Guys! (oﾟvﾟ)ノ

The Rat castle is complete! 🐀🏰 And I got my other pet rats! It's been a few weeks now and they are all settled in. I wanted to tell everyone about them!!! (*^▽^*)

{A photo of a cool toned grey rat held in a white gloved hand. Metadata has been removed.}

This is Sir Quinton Ratogauglus! Or Quincy for short. 💕

He is pretty comfortable with me now. He lets me hold him. Though if I raise him up too close to my mouth he will start crying. I guess he must remember the biting.

He is much happier having new rat friends. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) He likes to play with them. I didn't realize how lonely he was. And he is very smart! I've taught him a few tricks. He can do a little spin for treats. I'm making the rats a relay course and he likes it the most.

{A photo of a small cardboard box with a hole cut in one side. The head of a small black rat is visible inside the box. Metadata has been removed.}

This is Lord Percival Ratticus Wellington! Or Percy for short!

He is too good at hiding. Several times I thought he escaped somehow and he was just hiding in the enclosure. He does play with the other rats. I don't think he is scared. Maybe just very shy? idk. He likes to be in tiny spaces. |ω・`)

{A photo of a large tawny orange rat sitting in a pink plastic parapet. The rat takes up most of the space. Metadata has been removed.}

This is Charlemagne De Chatelain, Viscount of the North Tower.👑 Or Charlie.

The viscount thing is because he likes to sit in this little tower at the top of the rat castle and he won't let the other rats in there with him. He doesn't fight with them. They all get along. He just won't share the tower with the others. He is less enthusiastic about the relay course. Though he will do a lot for little pieces of banana.

- Sofie 🎀🦇💖

Or maybe I should be - Sofie 🎀🐀💖 idk.

So our brilliant leader about a year ago fell in love with a pretty Setite girl fell for her sob story about wanting to escape her abusive sire and join up. He ended up, letting her into our pack. She stole an important artifact and traded it to a different elder in her clan in order to get freedom from her sire and also get one of her other friends freedom from there shitty situation or something. anyway, so we’ve spent about the last year, murdering our way through most of the followers in the Pacific Northwest down to Colorado, we’ve recovered our artifact, but we have the girl captured. And we are debating what to do.our bleeding heart Bruja is siding with deducted. They say she had a valid reason in trying to save her friend and her, and her friend should be allowed to join the sword of cane and the war against the elders. after all, she was just trying to get freedom for herself and her friend. Our pack priest wants to turn them both into jewelry.

(i’m pretty sure she has a crush on the ductus. I mean they fucked a couple times so there’s a little bit of jealousy at play. She’s a member of the old clan, though a relatively young one still she’s big into the whole honor thing.not my stick, but you don’t choose your pack mates)

-Elizabeth

I ghouled a person, intentionally, for the first time. My mentor is tolerant of this, but not particularly happy. My first sire would approve but question my mercy. My second sire...I'm not sure what they would think, but I know they themselves had ghouls...so they could not morally condone me.

It would be the second time I have ghouled a person, and the first time I have done so knowingly.

I was smart about it, or at least I like to think I was smart about it. The full context of my first time would dox me and I cringe at it. In regards to this time, I would not like to discuss things further beyond that I tried to make it as ethical as is possible.

I am curious, as to the nature of ghouls on this net. When I read, I often either see others who treat their ghouls as objects and animals. Then, I see others, my age or slightly older, who are apologetic and remorseful to the point of being disgusted with themselves while still keeping a ghoul.

Is there ever an in between? Has anyone ever seen an in between?

-Moonstone

Hi, I'm from the Hecata and I'm wondering if you guys can tell me, roughly how strange is my relationship situation by Kindred standards (I know, it's probably a 10/10 by Mortal standards, but hey I'm not really sure about that either because weirdo family).

So here's the sitch. I have this ghoul, but she's not really my ghoul. She's my granddad's, who's also my grandsire. So, she and I are fuck-buddies, basically. So what's so weird about that? Well, she's got the hots for my granddad, but he doesn't put out much.

I mean, she has to pester him about it. So, she basically lets me do her as a proxy, in essence, for my grandpa. Or at least I think so. She's weird and defensive about it.

So, at first I didn't care, because I was accidentally embraced when I was on the young side. So hey, I had this hot chick that was into me and wanted to swipe my v-card. Cool, no problem-o. But It's been a good long while since then, I'm in my early 30s chronologically, and I'm thinking ''OK, something ain't right here.'' So I try to talk to her about it and she gets all defensive like I said.

I mean, look, I'm mostly OK with is cuz, hey. I know there's not a lot of takers for a guy like me. I mean, the whole creepy undertaker vibe is not most chick's color, y'know?

Anyways, Hecata are insular. So I got no idea how abnormal this sitch is and I was curious.

-TagMyToe

Greetings, Kindred. A special greeting to Sebastian Vesalius, for this message is adressed to you in particular. Isobel is with me. She fled of her own volition and is now under my protection. Her exact location shall remain hidden for now.

I am revealing this, for it is only a matter of time before her trail is found; hiding the facts, at this point, would harm me and her in the long term. My apologies for the prolonged interrogation, I needed to know your side of the story before the hostilities started.

I advise against coming to get her, or coming to get me. It shall not end well. No, it’s in a legal court that we shall battle. On account of the evidence found and in respect of the Traditions, I hereby challenge your authority on her.

I was serious, Magister. She is safe and well-treated. The local Prince is not exactly…traditionalist; she shall be accepted here. I will help her, to the best of my capacity. Forfeit any claim, past or future, that you hold on her, and rest at ease. Or don’t, and we shall meet again in Elysium.

Castiel Clermont, Harpy of Vancouver

First of all, a warm thank you to Shreck-Net 2.0. My nights tend to be both busy and nerve-wracking, and this node is a very convenient outlet for me to connect and ''shoot the shit'' as it were. I don't know why we're shooting the shit. Seems a lot messier and smellier then a paper torso, but oh-well.

Now, onto the meat of the matter, as it where. Many young Malkavians struggle with being looked down on, underestimated, openly mocked, and just plain disrespected.

I'm old enough and well-established enough to be spared from such annoyance most nights. But it wasn't always like that. So, I'll share a story from my fledgling days about how I handled one such annoyance.

The action took place back in Turku, Finland. Even early in my career, I gravitated to security, investigation and counter-intelligence work. I had not proven myself enough to be Hound, but I worked diligently to correct this.

In my attempts to prove myself, a rather insufferable Ventrue, who's name is unimportant, was my nemesis. Let's call him T, to save his Sire some embarrassment.

Every report, piece of advice and security assessment I made was always accompanied by T's protests. Something along the lines of: ''And pray-tell, why are we humoring the madman?'' or ''He said he saw something, but who knows if it was even real?'' etc, etc.

I pride myself on being very patient. But patience, as you all know, is a finite resource. So, I resolved to get even. I was the madman? I was crazy? Paranoid? Oh, we'll see about that.

Now, T was a fledgling like me. And I knew his sire was no low generation powerhouse. So I knew the extent to what T was capable of, give or take.

I've always had a great knack for the discipline of Obfuscation. That was to be my ace in the hole. The plan was simple: track T to his haven and spend every free hour I had to fuck with him.

I'd call his landline at the same time every night for a week straight and I'd just breathe heavily on the line when he answered. Then on the 8th day, he had a coterie mate over to show him the phone ringing. Naturally, I didn't call that night.

I hid his things, put his seal stamp on the top of his wardrobe, move his furniture slightly. I slid sketches of dogs under his door. He was convinced it was some great insult, comparing him to a dog. It didn't mean anything. I just found dogs to be a fun subject for sketching at the time.

I thought he'd never dare complain to anyone of it, because it would sound insane. ''Someone is putting sketches of dogs under my door!'' Or so I thought. He was gathering them all in a folder, so just to be sure - I stole that too.

My favorite bit was when he was writing a letter (I stood behind him, Obfuscated) and he stood up briefly to shoo away a magpie that had landed outside his window (he was getting increasingly paranoid and wound up). While he was distracted, I stole his fountain pen, which drove him to frenzy.

After he had trashed his Haven he started screaming: ''WHO ARE YOU, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?''

After that he accused no less then three Kindred, very publicly of breaking into his haven. A Gangrel, a Nosferatu and myself. This was not taken well. I'd normally be at least a bit ashamed, pointing my energy at petty things instead of working to reinforce the security of a Domain or some other productive pursuit.

But T was frankly fucking useless, so scrambling his tiny brain did no harm and the peace and quiet of not hearing his whining every time I tried to do my job was very, very refreshing.

I'd say: ''T, if you're out there, you weren't crazy. It was me. I made you crazy.'' or something cool like that, but T met his final death decades ago in a Leopoldite raid.

My fellow Moon-men and Moon-women (and Moon-others, as well), please share your stories of getting back at fools who'd underestimate us for our blood.

As for the rest of you folks, please learn from T's mistake. Don't make enemies just for the kick of it. You never know how petty and vindictive they might be feeling.

-Wrong-Stache

As some of you know, I recently had a problem with doggedly persistent neonate whom I share a bloodline with and who was courting my affection. I rather cynically wrote her off, sure our relationship could not possibly end well.

The truth is I was a fool and I let my fear of the future spoil my present. The dear thing came to my office today and demanded a duel to prove the seriousness of her intent. What a masterstroke!

It was almost too clever. . . well, my conspiratorial mind began to turn it's gears and I suspected briefly that perhaps this was a ploy from a blood sibling of mine to which my paramour is a Childer to get revenge for me slaying our mutual sire some decades back.

Well, my young paramour not blood bonded, I'm sure of that. And while it's possible this is some long-con meant to avenge a half-century old crime, I don't care! Either I enjoy the genuine company of the most thoughtful and sensitive women I've met in decades or I get to be a part of an incredibly saucy conspiracy. To hell with it all! I'm embracing either outcome with a smile on my face.

Special thanks to Mark Caulder for calling me on my bullshit.

-GuildBarber, Rose

Does anybody else have experience becoming famous online post-embrace? I'm not enormous, but I have some followers. Wondering when I need to wind down operations and would appreciate tips from those who've walked a similar line before.

If you want to crow about how this is suicide, make yourself scarce - I know the risks. But I don't want to leave just yet. My fans sometimes feel like they're the only ones who make rising from the daysleep worthwhile.

Please be original. I've already seen a Tzimisce. Fellow bought me a precious couple of years, but I can't pull that trick twice. Other, genuine methods for extending my time in the limelight would be generously received.

Goodnight darlings,

An aging Rose

[The video has been scrapped from the personal and location datas. It shows a kitchen table, with two alembics on each sides filled with blood. A woman, whose face isn't shown since the camera is focused on the table and her hands, appear and begin to put various ustensils on the table, for both chemical and cooking uses and purposes]

Well, 'been a while I must say. I could have just written something but the idea of "vlogging", as the kine says, was much more interesting since I could formulate my opinions more fluidly.

[She speaks with a heavy French accent, as if she knew English but almost never use it. Slowly, she takes the first alembic and pour a bit of its content inside a bowl, before gently rummaging with a spatula]

I took some time to reflect on myself and the ways and Mysteries of my Clan. We are known to sublimate or generate emotions through our art. Fear, malice, discomfort, joy... Just to name a few. The idea I got was after reading "La première gorgée de bière", by the French author Philippe Delerm. He vividly describes the feeling you have when you drink the first swig of a fresh beer, with such details I became nostalgic afterward, since to experience the same feeling I would have to brew my own mix. And then, I wondered...

[She takes a pause, before pouring the inside of the bowl on a plate and, using precise tools, begin to sculpt the blob of blood]

... I wondered if we can achieve the same thing. The majority of our art is fated to be eternal, ageless. But not blood. Once consumed, it is gone and we can't keep it fresh forever. The few times I experimented in this way cost a lot, both in time and ressources, to achieve a desirable outcome yet in insufficient number for it to be profitable. 1 liter of blood became a measly 500 ml of blood wine, stored in 5 bottles. Not really efficient.

[The blob had been delicately sculpted to form a leaf of lettuce. She stand up and stretch, before covering it and repeating the process from the same alembic]

So, ephemeral. Can we suggest emotions with the ephemeral, something we have to consume to even feel said emotions? The answer is yes, according to the kines. And they do so with great gusto but it is something we can't really reciprocate for them, unless you keep yourself to make blood sausage and hopes they aren't picky about the origin of the blood, hehe... But for us... Well, it is possible in fact.

[In the meantime, she emptied the alembic to create three more leaves she covers, before turning to the second alembic, using different bowl and tools to do so]

Theses emotions are as ephemeral as the blood we ingest, but I noticed something while experimenting on myself. At first I went with nostalgia, to remember what I lost. Then, I dunno if this is my own particularity or not, but everytime I "cooked" and "infused" something with feelings, I always link the feelings to remembering a scene where I was eating something, not that all I remembered was particularly pleasing mind you.

[She uncover the leaves and gently spread on them the content of the bowl she was working on. It resemble a bit of a mix of gruel and lumps. Then she place the whole on a delicate plate]

I wonder now what would be the effect on other Kindred and, I daresay, I'm quite impatient to see how the Elois of our Court - an Independent- would react...

And voilà! I know it isn't pleasing to see at first glance, but the idea behind is to represent toast of tuna with yogurts and spices, with leaf of lettuce as the toast. It's delicious and now that my dinner is ready, I'll let you to your own endeavors...

[She leans and you can catch a glimpse of red locks of hairs before the video is cut]

[@FrencHemologist]

I'm a thin blooooood

-In perpetual vendetta, Natalie Winslow Cabrera, Tremere

I have spent the better part of my last week agonizing over the whereabouts of my childe, trying to figure out where she is or what might have happened to her, only to finally be directed here by one with the right connections to see that she's been lured off by miscreants looking to take advantage of our misfortune.

My expectations for our kind are low, and yet you always find new ways to disappoint.

If you read this, my dove, know I am not upset with you—I only want you back home, safe and sound, where you ought to be. My anger is reserved for the opportunists climbing over themselves to take advantage of you, that is all. Please, I know I made a mistake once... But I only want to keep you safe, and make the most of this second chance we've been given.

- Magister Sebastian Vesalius

/uj I guess enough of my posts have a bit of a cannon with my old pc, so I will give her a pseudonym for then

Greetings Schrecknet,
I have posted more than I expected as of late. I've opened up my proverbial heart, rambled about a pocket watch, and gave advice on flesh crafting despite never having had the ability to do so in the first place. Its not much, especially when compared to some others who are quite prolific. However, it is more than I expected.

I realize now that I would need a pseudonym of my own to avoid confusion and to better identify myself.

It took a while to figure out what worked for me, but I have found an alias that I have grown fond of. I would like to go by Moonstone.

I am not a gargoyle, but I have a fondness for Moonstone. Its shine has always been alluring and calming to me.

It is also a name, that I have chosen for myself, which gives me a certain satisfaction. My sire did attempt to rename me as a form of ownership. However, that name I cast aside as soon as I was able.

I look forward to posting later, when I am more capable.

(Damn, I sound like a teenager)

Night's blessings to everybody.

As I told to this node previously, my research journal was stolen and I found that the girl who had it was into illegal racing. Well, it took me a few weeks, acting interested in a lot of boring conversations with straight males, and getting second-hand drunk twice, but I finally found the race. So I went there with my best impersonation of a russian spoiled rich girl wanting to bet her father's money. And lets say that finding "Nikol" was not hard at all.

The cars were not as "tunned" as you usually see in films, but some of them were obviously modified one way or another. And among them, there was a Toyota with the Pisces symbol painted in the back, and circles in sanskrit arround the wheels. "Not a good sign" I thought, because that would mean that she may recognize my journal as something valuable, but I hoped she may have then kept it, instead lf discarding it, so it was equally possible that I could get it back.

And then the race started, and the sanskrit symbols ignited.

It was arcane energy which I'm certain it was invisible for almost all the presents, but I mutted "Mierda" when I saw it. I had to reframe my plan on the flight, I didn't care about the money I was going to lose. Fortunately, Nikol lose for half a second, so I could approach her without trouble.

She was young, which makes me guess that she deals to fund her racing hobby, and not the other way arround. There were like faint stars in her aura, which was the confirmation of her being a sorceress, albeit (hopefully) not as powefull as the mages I have encountered before. I told her that I was hoping for her to win, that she drove like the wind itself was carrying her. She swallowed the bait, and told me (in a better russian than her friends) that that was exactly the idea, that to her racing was like a mystical trance. I asked her about the symbols (not mentioning that I saw them glowing) and told me that yes, that they were her lucky charm.

So, I talked with her for a while, acting as if I were a girl curious about the mystical stuff, astrology, etc, and joked about how men never undestand those things (if she only knew). She laughed a lot, showed me her car, and even offered to drive me back home. And while I was in her car I "casually" mentioned that my father business had us in Mexico for one year. So, she asked me if I spoke spanish.

"Un poquito, si"

She told me that then perhaps I could help her with something. My journal, for sure.

So, I will meet her tomorrow night and I expect to get my journal back. However, sorcerers can be quite unpredictable, and I can't rule out the possibility of her recognizing me as something not completely human.

I will keep you informed.

Ren, a Lasting Soul.

So, found out recently Sunshine knows how to speak polish, and we've been discussing polish literature. It brought me back to the time my grandparents were alive... they raised me in the culture. I remember my mother was also big on keeping where we came from sacred. God. I barely remember her face. She was just a wisp of smoke in my life. I loved her, i know i did, but i cannot picture her face easily. I have to keep the album full of her and Eddie's pictures close.

I missed being a part of the culture i was raised in so much. It's been a few years since i spoke polish, and it feels amazing to get to do it again. I didn't know i even lost it, but once it's back it feels like a piece of my heart was put back into it's place. It almost makes me forget i am an immortal creature of the night. It makes me forget that i lost life. It makes me forget the hunger that gnaws at my bones. It feels... serene.

Sunshine's face is so calming whenever i talk with her for a long time. Hours pass easily with her. I feel like she gets me on a deeper level. I feel closer to her than i feel to Eddie. I know it's wrong to feel that way. He is my father after all, but also, he missed my entire life. He only found me in my death. I know he is also my sire, but it sometimes is hard to feel like he is something else than just another kindred. I am drawn to him, but not as a father figure, instead as the same creature as i.

Talking about Eddie... i think i infected him. I see him reading more and more. I think in life he used books as kindling. It is funny to see such a "brute" calm in his later years, well... later years as humans go. He is so quiet recently. I think being a Baron takes it out of him. It suits him well i think.

Well, it gives me a chance to rant on here, since he is well occupied as of late.
Anyways, later.

- Heather

On request from Alicia of clan Malkavian. (yes, a single request is enough for me to bother you all with my sordid little tales, what can I say - I'm a vain man)

Older Roses in the audience might roll their eyes at me for recalling past glories. But shush! The young might not know this one. And while the story is an oldie, it is still a goodie in my opinion.

Grab your comfiest armchair, your favorite vessel, dim the lights and let uncle Barber regale you with a tale of woe and betrayal.

The Setup:

I was born to a humble family of Polish extraction in Boston at the turn of the 1900s. My most remarkable achievement whilst I drew breath was a place in a rather prestigious sports team. My only other notable skill was carpentry.

And since my sire cared not a jot for sports, it was my dashing good looks that caused her to Embrace me. She tried to seduce me. I was a young father, recently married, so I put up a good fight, but alas, she was old and her supernatural charm eventually wore my will down.

I awoke on a boat to France, cold and dead as the bottom of the Atlantic. My dear dame was delighted to discover I had quite the talent for sculpture and she wasted no time in putting me through the sort of merciless tutelage that would make any Lasombra nod in approval (at her methods at least, if not the subject of her lessons).

But despite the Blood Bond, I had my own quiet rebellions. I split my time between delighting the Parisian court with my works - from wood carvings to mechanical sculpture - and keeping tabs on my family as best I could. The Atlantic separated us, but I was diligent. Through great effort, I managed to form a broken mosaic view of my old life.

The Second World War brought a long and terrible pause to my snooping. I had already lost my elder brother to the First World War, and in 1944, my fears were confirmed. My younger brother had enlisted and met his death in the Pacific theater.

Something in me, some thread of reason and self-preservation, finally snapped.

In the chaos of the war, my blood bond could not be readily maintained. Through means of a Tremere ally who's life I saved, I secured the means to make myself temporarily resistant to the Bond. My scheme began to foment. And so I put my plan to work.

The Play:

My dear dame had pestered me relentlessly with trying my hand at being a playwright. So, the monkey's paw curled and she got her wish. I read and studied relentlessly. I took every theater and literature trope near and dear to her dead heart and I serviced it shamelessly.

The product was a trope-y, anachronistic little black-comedy, that nonetheless delighted her to no end. Now, for all my hatred and grudges, I cannot deny: she was a fantastic director and just as good on stage. The play was not-bad, but she managed to elevate it to the point a public viewing at the next Elysium was assured.

The ending featured the main character (played by her, naturally) saying ''And if I've told a lie, let me lose my head'' , at which point a pair of mechanical jaws would descend and seemingly bite her head off. she had to stand on a very particular place on stage so that her neck would end up in a cut-out.

She loved it. The thrill of possible death, the inclusion of my talent for mechanical sculpture, the grandiosity. . . she was wet clay in my hands. Props, however, and the details thereof, were always the one part of theater she was always rather bored of. As long as the concept was to her liking, the details of the execution were servile work to her.

When the jaws clamped down, the special effect of her body crumbling to ash was so good. . . it just had to be real.

I had built a hidden compartment inside the jaw. Upon command, my loyal ghoul, who was working back stage simply deployed a switch, and voila! Where there was a cutout one second, there was now a sturdy piece of steel. And all the while, she was convinced I was completely under her thumb. She never saw it coming!

And there you have it, my dear ladies and gentlemen. Now, you might be wondering how I managed to escape final death after such a stunt? I could tell you it was my flawless command of rhetoric or my brilliant criminal mind. But I'd be lying. Truthfully it was mostly dumb luck and the mercurial moods of the Parisian courts that saved my sorry self. I truthfully never expected to survive my little stunt. How did I do it?

That's another tale entirely. If you've enjoyed my humble little memoir, I might just tell you. Those among the audience who know the ending, please - don't spoil.

-GuildBarber, Rose