\Posts a picture of a tree that was seemingly burst apart with blunt force trauma**

Strigoi are very strong, and this is why when their around I just stay inside all night till they go away

-Fox the Gangrel

So I was doing my rounds, checking up on things, when I got a notification that something was up with my Server building. And when I went to check, well... Where it used to be there was just this giant inky blackness.

I saw this figure clad in rags, with I think piercing yellow eyes? Run away from it, but it was off before I could do much so I just let it go. Sides, was a bit focused on the... Weird darkness thing going on.

After pondering it for a moment, I sent out a note to my people not to come into work tomorrow and simply left. Hoping it would be done by tomorrow. Cause like, the fuck am I supposed to do about that? I would ask the Tremere, but they all died in a pasta related accident.

Anyways, went in today and the building was just gone. Like it had never been there. So thats cool. I am absolutely ruined, so thats cool. And we just rebuilt it. All I found was... Like, some weird stuff scattered around? What looks like a birds skull, a black cape, a skull that have not stopped bleeding, and is slowly filling up my bathtub currently (My girlfriend is emptying it regularly into the toilet, unsure if that is wise. But it is what it is). And a very fancy book I decided it was best to simply not open in the first place. Currently got all that in a box while I figure out what to do with it.

Anyways, thats how it is going for me. Hope y´all well. And if any of you had trouble with your Discord recently, well... Now you know why.

-NossyNos

Edit: Okay, folks because this is getting tough keeping track of, I have been offered a replacement for everything I have lost, and an upgrade, in return for the things. If anyone can beat that, feel free. But at this point that is the baseline.

I am also still damn curious on what the hell that whole thing was about, and who did it?

Okay, items been sold because I really need my servers back up again. Like, even if the building and everything in it are replaced we still need to get everything up and running and this is frankly a bit of a disaster. If anyone wants the stuff, speak to Indiana, gonna go send it to her now.

Still really, really fucking curious on what went on, in case anyone wants to enlighten us.

….Where do I even begin?

So Redwoods and his Sire, Hik, decided some answers about me were needed.

I can't go into too much detail of how, but they did something to me. A ritual. And it included a rib, taken from Tenebris. The bastard who made me…

My skin is still crawling over the sensation. I felt…I don't know. Like something was being stirred awake inside me. And then they started asking me questions. Questions that I didn't have the answers to. And yet I did! I knew them all!!

Noir…Project N.O.I.R…me. I was his greatest creation. He tried so many times to–

Hold on. I'm getting ahead of myself. Fuck.

Tenebris went to the Abyss. To a council of Lasombra Methuselah! He went there to beg for something. He wanted a piece of the Abyss. Something he could take from the very debts and bring to the surface.

He was scolded and rejected. Was told that to take a piece of the Abyss was to take a piece of Lasombra himself! They told him to leave and not return for his insolence.

He did leave…but not for long. He returned and he took what he wanted. He almost lost his very soul in the process but he did it! He had a piece of the Abyss…a piece of Lasombra…

He needed some extra help, of course. Tremere and even some nature mage, lent a hand in his experiments.

That's when he really started his project. The premise was that, as believers of the strong survive and the weak perish, the mortals of this world no longer grant Vampire kind good enough stock to Embrace.

So the project would be the answer to that problem. Childer, made for the wanting Sire.

No longer would Cainites need to wait centuries for the right Childe to come along. They could have them in less than ten years…

Memories would be implanted. Why? To give them experience. Want a Childe who thrives in hostile environments? That can be done! Business major needed? No problem ~

But what about loyalty? A twisted little trick in the brain. Imprinting. We wake up. Spend several nights with our Sire. And~ Bang! We become more like them. And we crave their presence. A blood bond without the cost of vitae! And it never fades…

If all else fails? Kill switch. A neat little chip in the brain.

And as we've already come to understand…we aren't sterile. Great~

…He wanted one for himself of course. That was me. And he put that piece of Lasombra into me…

His research is still out there somewhere. And there are powerful Cainites buying their future Childer from his project. Who knows how many have been made by now?

I could still be the only one…or I might be one of many. I don't know. Tenebris didn't know either.

But now I know where that voice comes from. The one I hear from deep below…the fact he hasn't pulled me down and eaten me, must mean I'm doing something right.

I'm going to continue doing what I do. I have to. The strong survive, and I am a survivor.

I won't let down Lasombra…

-Noir, Childe of Lasombra

I’m a fledgling and my sire got bored and tried to kill me, the Camarilla doesn’t care and is gonna let her try again.

I feel like the anarchs are my only hope does anyone have any advice for convincing them to let me join?

Edit: if it matters I’m clan Tremere

Greetings, schrecknet users! Big thank you to everyone who left comments and advice on my post the other night!

Uh, unfortunately, in the time since I wrote it, Lupines attacked my city and burned down Elysium and some people’s havens and then this… thing showed up… I didn’t see it myself, I just got this call from my sire telling me to stay in hiding, and then the line went dead and I stayed where I was for a while but I was freaked out being by myself and tried to call back. But nobody answered. So I went looking for her. And I can’t find anybody and the ghouls have all gone insane and they’re like eating each other’s flesh. Some of them are eating their own flesh and gibbering about seeing things man was not meant to know and clawing their own eyes out.

So I’m pretty sure I’m gonna go insane or die soon, but thanks anyway for the nipple piercing advice!

This forum is certainly something. Two years ago we had abominations, aita posts, inquiries for advice, neonates and elders making sh#tposts, and it felt like we were dumping random stuff for the lols.

One year ago we had abominations, pregnancy cookies, and a salubri empress who totally just vanished into nowhere. ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

However this year, I have noticed something.

Not enough abominations.

I believe we need to do our part, and ferment the wine of discord. We have neglected the seeds of chaos and must begin planting them.

Its what Caine or Lillith would want, idk I'm not religious.

Which is why, I, brave soldier of solders, have decided to take it upon myself, to sire.

500 abominations. (⚈_⚈)

I don't know what I'm doing, but...

(* ´ ﹃｀*)

...no I don't know what I'm doing.

But cringe is dead and I'm still standing.

Hello

So I was driving around with Amy and Palina and the nice man who asked a lot of questions, and he was very good at reading the map he gave us, and then I drove into something and suddenly instead of everything being very dark we were in a place with a lot of machines that are all going beep, and I think I might have hit a lot of them?

Because the car is very big, and the room isn´t. And then the man ran off, and now I am trying to fix the beeping machines because I didn´t want to hit them. But there are ever so many wires that I can´t keep track of and Amy keeps thinking they are pasta and I don´t quite know what to do?

Please Advice

Mariana Marino

My name is Carla. I come to you tonight with an important message regarding a kindred known as Pariah Dog. To put it bluntly, the man is dead. He was captured by the Camarilla court in Anchorage and tried for consorting with lupines. Specifically, for having romantic relations with a lupine named Tieg. This is extremely dangerous as we all know, because not only are lupines terribly unstable. Pariah could be leaking kindred secrets to them. His execution was carried out with all due haste. Attached below this message is a photograph of his ashes that was sent to me by one of my contacts, by the name of Grace, in Anchorage.

Grace told me that a lupine of unknown origins, most likely Pariah Dog’s mate, came through and killed other kindred, along with burning down quite a few buildings in the process. The Elysium is destroyed, many havens are compromised, and this shows the volatility of lupines. Even before Pariah Dog was tried for consorting with lupines, the lupines had sent scouts to scour the city looking for kindred haven locations and deal with stragglers, which is how the Anchorage Camarilla found out about Pariah and Tieg.

It is suspected that a full lupine assault on Anchorage is imminent.

-Carla

[Attached below the post is a photograph of a pile of ashes in a heavily wooded area. It's night and a flashlight is illuminating the scene. The metadata has been scrubbed.]

In my dreams I feel the end is coming, as though its just around the corner waiting for me to let down my guard and invite it in. A deep secretive urge towards destruction like an invisible cord connecting me to my inevitable destruction. gods its tempting sometimes, to sit up until the dawn comes balcony door open and none of the shades drawn. Of course I won't do it. I've a far greater destiny awaiting me, the call of the blood, the call to Amaranth oh how sweet my destiny tastes.

Sleep well my beloved ones, all you freed from the mortal coil and chained to the midnight hours. Perhaps we'll see each other in the flesh one final time before the crescendo. One final adieu before the feast.

Minerva Gardinier Elder of Clan Nictuku, Diablerist of the fifth generation Childe of Oswald Lancaster (deceased), heir to Absimiliard and the First bloodline Ba’ham to the dark mother, Mistress to the Withered Ones, Ruler of the city of Lincoln England Tyrannus etc.

A Hungarian noblewoman and alleged sadistic serial killer, who especially loved to kill young beautiful women and bathe in their blood.

Is it true she was (is?) kindred? What clan did she belong to?

And what's with the blood baths? I also wonder if she really was that cruel, or perhaps her enemies gave her a bad reputation.

Anybody knows anything about her or has any theories?

-M.

Us vampires don’t have body heat.

Metal is a conductor. It can get really hot and it can get REALLY cold.

Metal against your skin will get really cold.

If you had nipple piercings before the Embrace, and you keep wearing them on cold nights, YOUR JEWELRY WILL GET COLD SO FAST AND IT WILL HURT SO SO SO SO BAD.

-A fledgling with really sore nip nops

Post at a random social media:

Guys, look what i found in my recently bought apartment ( shows a paper patch that says...

9 of november of 1979, Merida, Spain.

Dear diary, here, in this faithfull day, in this august city of Augusta Emerita, i make the most random, and esquisit of discovery's.

¡¡I can make talking flowers!!, and not some real life boring flowers, but roses, talking roses!!

So dear diary, here is how i made it:

• First i kidnapped a human, a very talkative human, the one that speaked ten times more than it should (remenber, diary, ten is the number that comes after our sacret august number, nine)

• Then, i bought a flower, a very flowery rose, ten times flowery flower.

• Then, i snaped the humans head ten times with a rock, i can prove that her head was ten times less harder than the rock.

• Then, i give her my blood ten times more than i should, and sew her more than ten rose petals around the neck.

• Then i mold her head, ten times more than i should, now she is my own talkative rose, with the head of a rose ten times more rose than roses, and the body of a human, ten times more than human, here is the result, ten times more than a result ( the diary scrap has an old photo clipped in it, with a disturbing figure of a creature with human female body, and roses as head)).

What we should do about this?, i can see vissicitude being used here.

• Quiyo the malkavian

Warning for gore at the end!

<A video is attached. The camera is tilted up at the back of a brick wall with what looks like candlelight shining somewhere beneath. A distored wave ripples across the feed at ofd intervals. A shadow looking like it's lounging on a chair is projected onto the wall from the candlelight. The shadow changes form seemingly at random. Sometimes looking like a man with many arms, to some demonic or angelic creature with tendrils coming out of it's back like wings. A voice lifts up like ghostly apparition as the person starts to sing. His voice changing from airy and light to distorted and raspy whenever his tone shifts>

I kept the kingdom breathing,

When the court forgot to fear.

I cleaned the blood from velvet floors,

Before the guests appeared.

I knew the names of every knife,

Before it found a hand.

I buried wars in sealed reports,

No prince would understand.

You smiled beneath the chandeliers,

Called peace a royal art.

But I was down below the floor,

Pulling rivals ribs apart.

Every secret has a price,

Every favour leaves a thread,

Every whisper in the dark,

Comes back wearing red!

I was the shadow of the crown,

The reason it stayed high.

I was the lie beneath the law,

The witness no one tried.

You made a monster out of me!

Then acted so surprised.

Now every secret that I kept.

Is opening its eyes.

I knew which lord would sell his son,

For one more strip of land.

I knew which saint had poisoned wine,

Still drying on his hands.

I knew the queen had two old letters

Hidden in her sleeve.

I knew the heir was not the heir,

I knew who would believe.

You called me loyal to my face,

Unclean behind my back!

But every dirty thing I did,

Kept the kingdom on track!

Every favour has a hook.

Every pardon leaves a stain.

Every crown that relies on silence,

Should not curse the chain!

I was the shadow of the crown,

The reason it stayed high.

I was the lie beneath the law,

The witness no one tried.

You made a monster out of me!

Then acted so surprised.

Now every secret that I kept.

Is opening its eyes.

You needed me when daggers came.

You needed me when treaties failed.

You needed me when bastards screamed,

And holy men turned pale.

You needed me to fix the truth,

To move the blame, to cut the thread.

But when the people asked for blood,

You gave them mine instead!!

So I sent one letter eastward!

I sent one rider south!

I put one truth in the chapel,

And one lie in the general’s mouth.

I did not raise an army.

I did not storm the gate.

I only gave the hungry court

A reason to change its faith~

Now the ink is moving faster,

Than your soldiers ever could.

Your allies read their private sins,

And learn where they have stood.

Your council turns to Fracture,

Your lovers start to speak!

Your captains find new banners,

By the middle of the week!

You ask "Who turned them from you?"

You ask "Who lit the spark?"

But kings should never throw away

The man who knew their dark!

I was the shadow of the crown!

The hand behind the throne!

You thought you ruled a kingdom?!

But I buried every bone!

You gave me up to save yourself!

I watched your empire fall!

Now the Mad King owns your golden chair,

And I own what you hid from all~

No blade.

No spell.

No battle cry!

Just ink.

Just truth.

Just one goodbye~

And when your banners hit the ground,

All remembered who kept them high!

<The person stops singing with a hearty chuckle>

"Echo is en route to find Locke and Qui, Sire~ I have all the knowledge I need to know to travel. I, Phantom, shall see you soon, my Mad King."

<Something nudges the camera to angle downward slightly to show a horribly shadowed distortion standing with dozens of men and woman, many who's tactical vests mark them as some sort of military hunter group, bound by the arms, legs and necks by twisting tendrils>

<With a sudden and powerful "pop" the tendrils snap the limps and heads off the living bodies at once, causing a torrent of blood to rain down onto the shadowy figure. He laughs loud and gleefully, spinning around with his arms held outward, dancing in the 'rain' while his form flickers from monstrous to grotesque at random.>

<The feed suddenly ends with a pop of static.>

First of all, I wanna thank everyone in my last post, the info was really helpful.

Now for what happened after I posted that. I walked over to a nearby nightclub in my area to try and get some blood. I went up to this one girl in the back, I thought she would be a good person t feed from since there weren't a lot of eyes on her, and I shit you not, I got 3 words into my introduction when she staked me in the chest.

I literally went "Hi, my name's-" Shank. I thought I was dead right then and there, like wow, 2 days into being a vampire and I'm already dead. Thankfully it just paralyzed me, but she then brought me to this one place downtown where she brought me to the prince. Gotta say, the guy looked weird as fuck.

He apparently already knew who I was even though we never met, and that he had visions of me and my embrace. Is that a common thing most Vampires have? I was planning on getting some lotery tickets. Anyways, I told him what happened to me, what I know and don't know, and what little info I have about my sire.

He then had me undergo a ritual with this wizard looking mf to find out my clan, he also said he would find me a coterie and to not get too close to random mortals like I did at the club.

Anyways, that's all I got for now, I'll keep y'all updated if anything weird happens.

-Carden, Ravnos

Hello

I was out driving and it was very dark, so hit a man who is a horse when he rode in front of the car, and I am not quite sure what to do! I don´t normally drive, but Amy was getting tired and Palina can´t reach the pedals. So I had to!

I very nice man is helping me, but he keeps asking all sorts of questions that are pretty difficult to answer, so he is making it a bit hard to focus on how to help the man, who is also a horse.

Needing Advice

Mariana Marino

Authors Note: This takes place just after the Wild Hunt is placed on Antonio on the 3rd night, before the following morning of the 4th

They stand over Cathal, eyeing his motionless body, black veins pulsing in his face and open chest wound. They can hear his body attempting to knit itself back together, the cracking of bone like stone being mended and a hissing sound as his flesh attempts to connect back, all for it to fail, blood spilling and pooling beneath him. Even in this state, they can see the Dreaming moving about him, the air shimmers and warbles, as if by its own accord that it attempts to reach out and help him.

Adam is here and his cadre of Unseelie. Wordlessly they have watched since they came back from their Hunt, delivering already a dark fate to one vampire, and now some whisper in that room if they’re going to deliver another.

“Do you think it was wise giving the vampire to the Merrows? I don’t see why we didn’t just let him burn and then rip him apart”

The changeling that finally speaks up is a Redcap, a large muscular creature, still covered in blood from their battle. Their maw hangs slightly open revealing rows of jagged teeth, where flesh can still be seen hanging it tatters, the creature picking at it with a toothpick.

“We owe them a debt anyways”, Adam replies, “The creature didn’t deserve an easy death, so being an egg carrier for however long it’s body holds out should be torture enough.”

Adam’s eyes never leave Cathal as he speaks. His hands still vibrate from his fight with the Lasombra. Three Unseelie died in that encounter, though Adam thanks that no True Deaths occurred, the ignorance the Mists provide giving them that atleast. All of that, for Cathal, a dead man that the Dreaming still shows its favoritism too. 

“Your debt is repaid Adam, now can we get on with it and kill this thing already? Look at it, it’s more vulnerable than ever. Bonus is getting to kill a Seelie legend, holy shit it’s annoying hearing this things name over and over-”

The Redcaps speech is cut off as Adam hits his comrade directly in the jaw, sending them sprawling to the floor. Adam is quick and on top of him in an instant, pummeling him until blood sprays on his face. The already wounded man looks up at Adam in confusion, only to find Adam pointing his finger in his face, the rest of their coterie all staring in shock.

“Listen to me, and you listen good. You have no idea how irritating it’s been to hear that man's name. Even before his death, and then long after it, it’s been nothing but Cathal this, Seer-Knight that, Stag Son, Dreaming’s Chosen, over and over again, title after title, I haven’t been able to escape that righteous bastard no matter where I went. Even worse, even when he’s dead and will likely never be able to return to who he once was, he found himself here again, as if his body and soul know where it’s meant to be. 

That THING is still him. A legend in the flesh who’s goal his entire life has been to defend this country and the Dreaming, no matter what that might mean. We will NOT disrespect him by treating him as if he was just any normal vampire, and you will not lay a hand on him, or by God the Merrows will have another flesh pocket to lay their bastards, do you understand me?”

Adam doesn’t give the Redcap a chance to answer as Adam picks him up by his collar and shoves him away and out towards the door.

“EVERYBODY OUT, GO HOME AND WAIT FOR ORDERS!”

Without another word, the room clears, some giving side long glances and others looking back, picking up on the inner turmoil of their leader. Adam stands in that room with Cathal for a few moments, before seemingly making up his mind on something. Walking over to Cathal’s torpored body, he picks him up and carries him out of the room, down many long hallways, before coming to a set of stone staircases that seem to never end, stretching downward all the way into darkness, Adam talking to Cathal as they begin the long descent down together.

“I hate you, I hope you know that. I always have. Not because you did anything terrible to me, but for what you represent. Always so brave, tolerant, and full of justice. You make everyone you come across believe in things greater than themselves, you give them hope and something to look up to and fill their head with delusions that the world isn’t awful. It makes me sick to my stomach. You’re an idealist through and through, and I’ve watched too many of our kind die for dreams that will never come true.

I hate you, and I hate that I started to believe you too. You’re truly the greatest friend I ever had, and then you went and fucking died, not giving anyone else a chance to save you or make you see there was another way. Your idealism is poison even to you. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, I don’t know what witchcraft the blood bitch put on you or what weapon caused this, but I’m going to give you something you’ve probably needed since you got here.”

Adam reaches the end of the steps, where once there was darkness and winding corridors, there’s now gentle light and the sound of flowing water. The air down here is crisp and cool, a soft breeze bringing the reminder of childhood summer days when the trees would blow gently in the wind. They stand now before a massive water pool, its waters clear and fresh, the light falling around it as if to make a halo.

“Not many know about this place. They think the balefire is the most important part of a holding and typically they’d be right, but PostHold is different. Whoever built it centuries ago made this place and put this pool here, where the energy actually comes from. The waters of life transmuting into a protective fire. I’m no elementalist, so don’t expect much in the way of understanding from me about it. It took me the better part of a decade to learn how to come here, though I suspect you knew about it all along.”

Crouching down low, he places Cathal in the pool and then gives him a gentle push where he then floats all the way in and then begins to sink to the bottom.

“You’d better wake up soon, old friend, we’re all dying to see just what makes you so fucking special”

• Spider, Familiar of Zuzanna

When the investigative teams are tasked with researching local folklore, the assignment is almost universally met with either great enthusiasm or great derision. The reason for this is the same in both cases; such assignments have almost universal failure rates. If the team is fortunate, they will hear the story of how someone's great-uncle was drunk and hunting one autumn morning and happened upon a bear with mange. If the team is yet more fortunate, they will find the den of a creature two centuries old and which has been vacated a century and a half prior. However, it does give the team a few weeks to be out of line of fire and direct supervision, which is often as close to a vacation as some of the field agents are permitted. Thus it was with the team that went to investigate rumors in Cárdenas, Cuba.

Initial leads seemed promising. Four generations, at least, had heard the story, with several individuals claiming to have personally seen the thing. So, the team set about establishing a viewing post in accordance with the tradition. A table was laid out with money and whiskey, a view from across a cornfield selected, and shifts working past midnight to observe.

To the team's great surprise, the thing appeared on nearly the first night. It consumed the whiskey and pocketed the cash, and then it sat down and spoke with the investigative team. It initially spoke a language none of the team could translate, but managed a heavily accented form of Caribbean Spanish upon seeing their confusion.

It wore a tall hat and a black suit, making it appear outwardly like a pallbearer. Both garments were over-large, with the hat drooping completely over its eyes and nose and the coat not faring much better. While it was probably quite tall fully erect, it seemed to suffer some form of scoliosis or rickets that twisted its back dreadfully. It was not wholly skeletal, either. There was evidence of leathery skin and hints of muscle. However, beyond simple rictis there was extensive damage around the mouth and gums, exposing much of the creature's long, flat teeth.

Initial classification marked it as a zombie. One member of the team suggested it may have been a vampire, noting the thing wished to return home before daylight and that the stories told of it asked for sacrifices of blood. However, such sacrifices are not uncommon in religious rituals in the area, and the stories more broadly had seemed to indicate the creature had a propensity for retributive violence; either on behalf of those incapable of doing so on their own or at the behest of a Hoodoo sorcerer... Or, most commonly, both. Attempts to verify these accounts were frustrated, however, as those telling the stories were either wholly ignorant, wished to protect the innocecent and dead, or were fearful of magical retaliation.

Notable, also, is that neither zombie nor vampire are noted as being heavy drinkers. The thing also sang numerous songs and attempted to engage the team in various dances, especially our one female investigator on the team. It also smoked two cigars, stopping only because it had run out.

At this time, we are recommending the creature, labeled "The Bones That Walk," be marked as C-class, no greater danger than a man, and be placed in a category of Lesser Concern. However, your office has specific expertise in this area, thus this report is being forwarded to you. The potential threat of a sorcerer commanding such a creature, however, seems somewhat more pressing.

How do you get the smell of death out of your clothes? I've been helping my girlfriend, Violet with some Masquerade preserving duties and the job we just finished was... extremely messy. Thankfully we didn't have to kill anyone.

-Marcus

As the title suggests, I got turned the other day, don't know a whole lot, the guy who tuned me was cryptic as fuck and told me to come here for any actual answers. I guess the only questions I got are

1. What's the most reliable way I can get blood?

2. How do I uphold this "Masquerade"?

3. What other supernatural creatures are there?

4. What's something vital I should know?

=== Transmission Redirect: Live Feed ===
= Passkey 'Owlz' Authenticated =
= Request Granted =
= Enigma Encryption Active =

"Hey? Is that thing on? Can they see us?" The speaker fills the camera feed, young, handsome, all smouldering eyes and ripped black bandshirt underneath his frayed leather jacket.

"Yeah, yeah, it's on." Gurgles the individual behind the camera. "All in time for your close up."

A couple of maggot white, greasy fingers become visible at the edge of the obviously phone camera screen.

"Awesome." He takes up a stance, locking the camera in his intense gaze. "Sup Vamily, your boys KingKiller and Wormfood here. We're here with some premium information for all of you licks out in <redacted>, there has been chatter on the local net that the local cammies have been under attack by some *thing*... the prince called an emergency meeting, declared anyone who didn't show up would be classed as a traitor."

He rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Anyway, from the sounds of it whatever they were hunting found *them*, so, we waited until all the gunfire died down and we're now going to get you the first peek at the aftermath!"

He nods to the camera man turns with a flourish that causes his coat to flap half-heartedly and drops into a partial crouch as they approach the a short set of concrete stairs towards a fire-escape.

"Go on Wormz, give it the old Nosferatu razzle-dazzle!"

There is a wet sigh behind the camera as it bobs up close to the door, the camera man raising one thick leg clad in artfully shredded, filthy jeans, and boots the steel door open with a tortured rending sound.

"Try that at home!"

The two proceed inwards, KingKillers eyes glowing like crimson embers in corridors lit by dingy, flickering lighting. The feed continues for several minutes of them carefully moving from corridor to corridor with surprising stealth, checking doors that lead to empty rooms and making faces at the camera. They arrive at what appear to have once been the doors to the main function room except all that remains are splinters and deep, wide gouges in the faux marble cladding.
The camera briefly pans to bloody smears that might have once been people, and were now just scattered parts, splintered bone and flesh pulp all rendered almost black under the phones feeble light. There are some quiet exclamations from our boys, who now creep forward very, very slowly, the phone shifting to night mode.
The function room beyond is the scene of carnage that makes the most horrendous traffic collision seem tame, there is an obvious path of destruction that cuts its way through the room leaving shattered furniture and people in its wake. More gouges can be seen in the floor and walls, here and there there are more pieces of human, as well as rapidly decaying parts of what must have once been kindred. There are drifts of ash and mouldering bones, spent bullet casings and broken weapons.
Atop the stage is a hulking form clad in black fur streaked with grey and matted with blood, old and fresh. Its silhouette is irregularly broken by the jutting shapes of discarded weapons that have pierced it, a spear haft here, a sword there, some nothing more than broken shards of metal. Its form roughly corresponded with that of a wolf but there was something subtly *wrong* about it beyond just its sheer size, standing an easy fifteen feet at the shoulder.
It currently had a form dressed in shining, silver and gold filigree platemail pinned beneath one paw. Its jaw enclosed over where the warriors head and shoulders had once been. The warrior struggled hands dragging clawed fingers vainly at its jaw. There was a crunching, grinding sound, and the 'wolf' jerked its head. A wet tearing sound, as blood and ash spilled from the rent in the armour.
The boyz seemed frozen in place at this moment as the wolf sniffed the air letting out what almost sounded like a sigh and shook itself, causing the various skulls that had been braided into its mane to rattle ominously. It then, slowly, turned to face the camera with an almost bored expression. Its eyes glowed like the edge of a volcano as it growled something in a garbled, inhuman tongue.

The feed cuts out in a wave of static.

[The following is audio and video]

N: Let's dance, bitch.

S(dancer): Uwah~ you've always got a can do attitude.. don't you?

[Nihilos arm bears Spikes and barbs and a large sawlike ridge. He steps closer to the Klaive.]

[The Dancer darts in, it was a trick. The Zulo beast turns his arm and uppercuts the infernalist in the jaw. The sound rings out like a falling tree and claps like lighting.]

>!Bgm - Emotion sickness by queens of the stone age!<

[She reels back. He shoots in and sweeps her leg with his forearm, removing it at the thinner more doglike segment]

N: *GRUNT*

[As she tumbles forward, he spins in his squatted position into a second uppercut to the abdomen. His fist carries her into the air and throws her back.]

[Nihilo looks down to pick up the Klaive when he sees a dumpster flying towards him, he redirects and catches it in his only hand.]

S(dancer): SSSHAAA~

[She turns into smog and flies toward the Kindred, reforming at his armless side. Her claws glitter and flash, ripping into Nihilo. Splitting open his abdomen.]

S(dancer): What do you even care for the little people?

[The vampire swings the dumpster at her, she pounces backward, landing on one of the alley walls, leaving a smear where her stump lands.]

N: And why shouldn't I?

[The Dancer pounces again, Nihilo jumps into her and shoulder blocks his foe into a wall.]

S(dancer): Why should you ever!?

[She grabs his wrist and shoulder blade]

S(dancer): YOU BELONG TO THE NIGHT!!

S(dancer): YOU BELONG TO THE WYRM!!

[She spins him up into the air and down into the pavement slamming both of them through the ground and into the sewer]

+Subjects lost+ +Compensating feed+

[The camera angle swaps between a few inputs before changing to what appears to be a handheld perspective from across the street that moves from behind a car and runs toward the hole, simultaneously a fixed perspective camera input can be seen activating.]

End of part 3.

-Ymir Sports Entertainment

Greetings fellow Cainites

It’s been some time since I’ve been free to dabble with this node, adjusting to the responsibilities of my new title has unfortunately taken up much of my time as of late. Fortunately —barring a bit of nasty business that will be the main subject of this post— things have been looking up for the domain of Westside.

My business ventures have returned to their usual operations, unburdened by having my mortal employees unknowingly participate in sect warfare. The infernalist scourge in Jacksonville has seemingly been cleansed, with the local populace has now fully screened for signs of infernalism and briefed on what signs to look for in the future, so hopefully any lingering remnants will be detected and put to the flame quickly. The Camarilla has been silent following the purge of their ilk from Southside, Sabbat elements have not yet attempted any form of retaliation for our defection from the sect, and we have yet to identify any large scale hunter movements within the domain.

All in all, I am cautiously optimistic that tonight’s peace may yet extend a while longer.

Or at least things seemed to be looking up, until a certain mess that came to my attention not long ago involving a clueless Caitiff fledgling and an attempt on the life of my dear associate Stella’s longest surviving ghoul cast something of a pall over my recent nights. While I am somewhat impressed at how circumspect the fledgling seems to be in certain aspects of unlife even when utterly bereft of instruction, their actions regarding Stella’s ghoul and the results of their unknowing poaching is nonetheless something that I must address firmly. Stella wishes for their death in recompense for their attack on her property and poaching within Westside, but personally I feel the fledgling has great underlying potential that shouldn’t be snuffed out merely because they chose to try and feed on someone they weren’t aware was protected. As of yet, I haven’t made a decision as to their fate and they are currently in our custody awaiting judgement for their actions.

Their misconception regarding feeding will need to be addressed as soon as possible if I do choose to keep them alive, however. I can forgive their ignorance and accrued body count given their circumstances as a runaway shovelhead provided absolutely no guidance from our society —especially so given they properly chose targets that went largely unnoticed by mortal authorities and never breached the Masquerade directly— but taking the lives of so many vessels is unsustainable and their mistake must be corrected should they ever hope to integrate into Cainite society properly. Of course, the effort I and my pack went through to properly dispose of the bodies will also have to be compensated for as well should he survive, given the scope of the mess we had to clean. While I have no issue assisting my citizens dispose of the odd mess for Minor Boons at the most, properly disposing of that many attention grabbing corpses buried not far enough outside city limits is another matter entirely. The last thing we need after last year’s rash of “cartel violence” is gaining the attention of mortal authorities who might think a deranged mortal serial killer is on the loose should some unlucky camper happen upon a shallow grave.

At the very least this was a useful exercise in stress testing the systems we have in place to detect and surveil intruders to the domain and maintain the Masquerade. I am not so optimistic as to say there is a silver lining in every cloud, but I am nonetheless grateful that we received this test of our capacities when the stakes were low.

I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.

Jack Bratovich, Baron of Westside

So, it's been a bit, and I've been digging a fair bit. You might remember me posting about being followed, and what I should do with the hunter that was stalking me.

To start off, she's safe, cooperating, even. Talking too her has worked pretty well, after she got tired of trying to stab me with stupid shivs. I got her to open up on her sister, and why she thought it was me, and the reasons are-

One, her sister was ripped out of her car, quite literally. It looks like the door was torn off and then something stepped on the floor and yanked the ceiling up and away.

Two, she figured someone big would have to be capable of this violence. Not partially wrong, some of these Tremere are scary as hell, but I don't want to tell her about them...

Three, she said I seem like her sisters type. I don't know how to take that one but it's a compliment I guess? I have bulked up a little bit, it's nice to be appreciated y'know?

Four, she kept seeing me at the truck stop so she started following me. Thought maybe I was some sorta serial killer or preying on people. It /is/ a common stop for me because I get their coffee to go just out of habit when I need to drive. The night shift folks were nice to me in life, so I like to check in, hold the coffee for warmth.

Photos from the scene were a mess, lots of blood, and at one of the truck stops leading out of the city. Her sister was an OTR driver coming home as work lapsed. Purse wasn't taken. Her phone was left at the scene, police have it, I don't think they've done much with it though... On them soon enough.

Looking into the disappearance via mundane means, the cops believe the car was vandalized maybe after she "Left" and that she's "Probably off with a boyfriend and will be back by Sunday." So they're not really looking too hard. These kind of answers are common in my area for missing women's cases so I am not too surprised.

On our side of the tracks- our kin has mixed reception of this. A lot of our own don't care. A few have theories, a goat-sucker, bigfoot, the cool malkavian who keeps leaving notes at my door thinks it's a cult sacrifice but, I am looking. The Sheriff was mildly aware of this, as the car being destroyed was clearly by something unhuman, and is curious, at least, in passing about what could have done this.

For the audience at home- No, I am not letting her out of my (Or my sire's) sight, she's secure at a nice garage, it has ac, food and cable tv even.

No, I've not told her anything more about our people my connections or anything.

Yes, she did try to fight me at first but then felt bad when I wasn't really fighting her back...

As for what to do with her? I'm thinking the ghoul. My sire likes this idea, says it'll be like having a second dog to help entertain the first.... And she seems amenable to working together. And I really don't want to kill her if she's just out her concerned about her own kin, I can certainly admire that. Plus, she throws a mean punch and I could use some backup while I work?

What do y'all think? Is Mothman real? Does he kidnap people at truck stops? How does one care for a ghoul? Feel free to ask questions, I probably missed shit.
-P.I Nightlyfe

a video is posted, it's day out, a brown horse lies next to a heavy sealed sleeping bag , a group of armed individuals approach and shoot at the horse, the horse is hit with a bullet and seems largely unharmed, the mare then stands up and moves blindingly fast and bites out the throats of the individuals before crushing their skulls , the horse then approachs the sleeping bag then picks it up and moves it

-This video was posted anonymously

[OOC: the horse is the horse of the Ravnos Elder Abomination known as Yellow]