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Everything posted by Dave ST

  1. Horatio chuckled again. "Well, we don't know," he shrugged honestly. "Usually, if you were, you'd have undergone your first change by now. That's where most tales of werewolves are true... we don't control the change, and... well, we don't control ourselves most of the time. Generally that happens around puberty, no offense, but I think you're a few years past that." He sipped his wine nodded. "Nice." He complimented. "She knows I'm a werewolf, yes. Most of us supernaturals keep tabs on the others. You see, just like humans, even we have our bad apples. Ravenna might be evil and conniving, but believe it or not, she's one of the good ones, but she is old, and very powerful by Kindred standards. She can influence people's emotions, lord over a room like a queen or have everyone cowering in fear of her. We supernaturals are more resilient to it, as we have our own tricks." "All I really know about you, Casey is that you are Chosen, by what or whom, I have no idea. People smarter and wiser than me do know... but they're not picking up the phone."
  2. Some of you may be wondering exactly where you're going to go from here... so far you're people who are seeing wierd things and have no idea where that leads in relation to you as a player... So... here goes... Pick a 'template'. You may choose from: Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Changeling: The Dreaming, Hunter: The Reckoning, or Mage: The Ascension. Simply add the particulars to your sheet and remove what things no longer apply to you (like Virtues). You are not reimbursed anything that you lose, but don't worry those things are into consideration as your character's 'grow into' the new life that seems to be knocking on their door. You can still choose things like Tribe and whatnot, but for the most part it will not come into play until later... remember, we're not using the RAW, we're making things up as we go. We don't have any bonus points to spend. We spent them in the beginning. Yes, you did. Because you were a person before you were this. Again, that will be taken into consideration later, for now, you get the bare bones because none of you are proficient on how live like a life of weirdness and strangeness, yet. Why not Vampire or Wraith? The dead cannot be Chosen. They can only be choosers. We will be going to a lot of places that are saturated in sunlight. By being a vampire you will miss about 70% of the story and frankly I'm not interested in making concessions for that 'one guy'. So... who are you? What was so special inside you that the Choosers... chose you? Go.
  3. Horatio chuckled, keeping his hands in his pockets he kept pacing about. It was honestly nice to talk about this stuff with someone other than a werewolf and not be in violation of the Silver Pact. "No, Casey. I can change my form whenever I wish, although, depending on the phase of the moon that can easier, or harder for me. Longer, or shorter. Forget what you've read, we are not forced to change on certain nights, we don't become just wolves, we have several forms we can take, all wolf related. Strong emotions can trigger a change, even some forms of magic, but by and large most Garou can change when so they choose." "Garou?" She asked, cautiously. "What we call ourselves. Garou. Most simply refer to us a 'The People'. We've been the stewards and protectors of this world since before humans we a thing." He stopped and faced her, smiling with a bit of pride. "We come from all walks of life, all manner of tribes, and we protect the world from malevolent spirits and evils some you can see, most have remained invisible to you... until recently. From evil warlocks, to corrupted fae to... well, vampires and everything in between. If it helps to process... my life is like Hellboy if we had an unlimited special effects budget, except the CGI is actually trying to kill me." "So, you're like the werecat guy in Hellboy?" She ventured a guess. "Please," Horatio snickered. "Werecats are pussies."
  4. The squeek of a few rats drew their attention away from the wretched spirit. Jadzia's heart went out to the malformed creature; this was not what she wanted, but for now was deigned to at least repurpose this creature in the hopes her deeds here could purify this place. It started as two or three rats, running past like the ship they were on was sinking. The it was seven to ten... The nervousness crept into all of them as the wall of eyes that consistently remained just outside their range of vision suddenly collapsed in on itself in an avalanche of bodies and tails and high pitched squeeks... hundreds, if not thousands of rats swarmed the hallway like a deluge of vermin caught in a current... Piper screamed a short, shrill shriek as within a matter of moments everyone was up to their knees in rats... and the 'water' was rising as they crawled, skitterd, climbed and became tangled in hair and clothing.
  5. I love The Raven. It never gets old. The post with the Lacey text conversation has been edited to allow Lilly time to speak with Jason, as she intended.
  6. "No hyperbole, Casey." Horatio said as he stepped away from her and walked back around the kitchen into the living room. He stuffed his hand in the pockets of his suit and finally turned to face her. "Everything you believe about your reality... is a lie. Magic is real. Werewolves are real. Vampires are real. And monsters? Very real, Casey." He took one hand out of his pocket and she heard the slight jingle of change or his keys, maybe? "Me? I'm over eighty years old. Horatio Mourne is my real name, but I'm also my own son." The look she gave him demanded an explanation. He chuckled. "I wasn't lying when I said I went to the coffee shop with my dad. You, just weren't born yet. I was Horatio Mourne Jr., then. After some time I faked my death and left everything to my son, Horation Mourne the third, technically me." He pointed to himself. "We werewolves live a very, very long time. We're not immortal like vampires, but we can go a couple centuries if we're lucky, or good at what we do." He paced around he living room, expressing himself with his free hand as he spoke. "If you stave off disbelief, as keep an open mind, yes, Casey, I can prove it to you. I know I was cruel at the party, Casey, but the purpose was two fold. One, I still have an image to portray before The Herd-" "Woah... wait, The Herd?" She asked. "Normal people. Everyday mortal Joes and Janes going about their lives." He stated. "I had a reputation, and I had to enforce that reputation with so many people around. After all, that is my day job. Second, I needed to see if the stress or the pressure would awaken anything within you. The Elders and I of my pack... well, to be honest, we don't exactly what's so special about you and the others, but make no mistakes, something out there wants you dead, and myself and some colleagues of mine have been assigned to keep you safe."
  7. Horatio stood there with nothing more than an expression of shock. That was certainly not the reaction he was expecting from Casey. "Uh..." was all he could muster as she broke down and began crying. He slowly approached her and wrapped his arms around her. It was an intimate embrace, it was more the 'I'm not sure what do right now, so I saw this in a movie and I hope it works' manner of awkward embrace. "Look, I uh," he started. He held he close and let her get it all out of her system. "I know it's a lot, but, your life is forever changed. I didn't change it, no one did, and you certainly didn't ask for any of this... but the spirits have dropped this on your doorstep, and you have to live with it. They sent me to help you. To help all of you. I'm trying, here, Casey. All I'm asking for is a chance."
  8. Mycroft's persona sifted through the Seattle directory as Chunin sped through the radio stations in his car, waiting for the ol' dwarf to finish his thing. He'd settled for the 'Punk Goes Pop' station not long before Mycroft came back to the Real. "Well," Mycroft started. "That was interesting." "It was, yeah," Chunin nodded. "Why would anybody want to remake a punk version of 'Chrome Palace'? It's a horri-" "Not the song," the dwarf rolled his eyes. "You idgit. I found her place, and she has a restraining order out on him." "Oooo," Chunin smiled. "Juicy." Mycroft put the car in gear and they were off to meet with Mrs. Fisher. It wasn't far, only about a twenty minutes drive in Seattle evening traffic and Mycroft only had to reprimand the human idiot twice on messing with his radio. Laura Fisher wasn't exactly rolling in nuyen, in fact her apartment was in one the slummier parts of the downtown area, not too far from downtown proper where all the rich elves could look down on her neighborhood and thank their stars they were elves, and rich, and better than everyone else. Mycroft didn't see the harm in bringing up his side arm, tucked casually under his coat. Chunin didn't appear to have any weapons, save for a combat knife tucked upside down underneath the vest he was wearing. It wasn't a good neighborhood, but thankfully they hadn't ran into trouble with gangs yet tonight. The two men entered the building and made their way up the stairs since (surprise) the elevator was out. They'd both been in low-income buildings like this plenty of times, with trash strewn about the hallways and every wall was tagged in either luminescent paint or ARO tags displaying all manner of programmable art. The image two framed animated image of the Renraku logo sodomizing what appeared to be the entire city of Seattle, Chunin thought was particularly tasteful. "I don't know," they heard from the door that was supposed to be Laura's. The voice was muffled but seemed feminine. They both hear the loud smack that came next. A second voice was muffled through the door. "I can do this all night, lady. You better start remembering something."
  9. Horatio paced about while Casey glared at him until finally he stopped and looked her dead in the eyes. "Fine. You think you're ready? You want the truth? Ravenna D'Sombra is a thousand year old vampire. She rules New York's Shadow Courts. She's literally the supernatural Queen of New York, and she wants you because you have a power that hasn't been unlocked yet. She's unaware of the dangers. Something is coming, Casey, it's hungry and it's so evil that it makes women like Ravenna look like they were born into Heaven's Bliss." He took in a deep breath and sighed. "And yes, I'd love some wine, thank you."
  10. Well, alright then," the rabbit said in his Danny DeVito voice. "Seth! Get the guy a beer." When the massive figure stomped out of the kitchen grasping a bottle of beer that was almost hidden by the size of the creatures massive fist, Mel was almost certain he was officially insane. The creature looked humanoid, with massive arms and wide thick body that stood over seven feet in height, or more, he looked like he was slouching. Two massive horns sprouted from his head and his lower teeth were pronounced, like tusks. He wore overalls that had the name tag on them. 'Seth'. The beast offered him the beer. "Here go." It said in a soft, slow monotone. "Look, Mel." The rabbit started, pacing about his floor, but avoiding the spot in the floor that Mel tore into the the other night, trying to dig to his dead wife. "You're not crazy. You keep telling yourself you are... and you're going to be, though. All those drugs they got you taking, man... not good for ya. They don't keep you head straight, make it cloudy, foggy and hard for us to get in here and talk to you. Sure, sure... a rabbit and a troll are probably the last thing a guy who thinks he's going crazy needs to be seeing in his dreams, but listen to me pal... we're working with what we have here, alright?"
  11. "Dare I say, sir," he took a sip from his tea, pausing to allow the sweet flavor indulge his taste buds. "The chimerestry behind where the tea parlor tricks is the least of you present concerns. Your life is about to change, sir. You are Chosen." "Chosen by whom?" Ravi asked calmly. "Not by whom, sir." Thaddeus looked at Ravi, giving him his full attention. "By 'what'." "What?" Ravi asked, a bit consumed by a flood of absurdity mingled with vague half messages. "Precisely! Good. Now that were on the same page, sir, there are other like you. Chosen. Unfortunately we don't know who they are, but soon you will all need each other. The Lady D'Sombra, knows more than most. She hordes information and has far more time and resources at her disposal that we have, sir. We thought, given your," he paused and offered a not so sly look towards Ravi's closet bedroom door. "Proclivities?" Ravi helped him out. "Proficiencies, sir." Thaddeus politely corrected. After al,l a genetleman would never imply one was anything more than gentleman they appeared to be lest there was evidence to contrary. "That you might be able to assist in that regard. Oh, I konw you wish to know more, I do, sir, but understand that to tell you everything at once would only serve to spin an impossible yarn. You have to see and feel your way through all the absurdities that lay ahead of you. Find the other Chosen, sir. All will be clear, then."
  12. "Nonsense, sir," Thaddeus replied and Ravi could almost hear the 'pish-posh' in his tone. Ravi turned to his cupboards, reaching for two mugs. "Nobility is in the blood, sir. It's not a scrap of paper or a castle on the hill." The unmistakable scent of finely brewed earl gray filled the air and he could hear the rattle of a cup on a saucer. He turned to look and the man was standing before a fine tea setting for two, the pot steaming and a small bowl of sugar cubes. "Do you take it with sugar, sir? I know it's not common but I've grown quite fond of the sweeter taste. My own guilty pleasure, one could say." He chuckled silently. He presented Ravi with his cup of tea.
  13. "Ah!" The man greeted Ravi with a warm smile. "Good morning, Lord FitzCoventry. My name is Thaddeus Alowishus Chadwick Mortimer Lightwood the Third, Esquire. If you've a moment, good sir, I've come to discuss your future." He made a motion with hand sweeping the doorway. His accent was about the thickest Ravi had ever heard. "Do you mind, sir?"
  14. "Okay," he said pensively, search for the right way t ophrase it so he didn't do all those things she was thinking about. "You're angry. I was somewhat dishonest, but I assure you, Casey... you're not ready for the truth." He didn't sit down. He paced around her living room in his three thousand dollar suit expressing his phrases with his arms and hand gestures. "I didn't mean for things to go the way they did, Casey, but... but damnit you make things so difficult. Not everyone is out to get you! D'Sombra? Out to get you. Those lawyers tonight? She invited them to get under your skin. Every emotional roadblock in your way tonight she put there to rile you up until..." "Until what," Casey seethed. "Until you did exactly what you did. Become a hammer and go after everything that looked like a nail. She's a manipulator, and she won't be happy until she has you."
  15. Maybe drinks wasn't a good idea, but those invited her had been so kind she decided to stay and enjoy some conversation and a few (too many) cocktails after the Gala. They paid for her Uber, so that was nice and now as her keys jingled in the door and she stepped inside she was looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower and to fall into her warm bed. The windows of the apartment allowed the brightness of the New York street lights to shine through. Even with every light in the place turned off the apartment was bathed in a circus of gray light and dancing shadows made all the more blacker by the trapped glare mingling black on black in some corners of the apartment. Maya's shadow stretched up the wall as the street's light stopped at her and pushed darkness up the wall. From that darkness stepped a woman, like she were born from it. “Cozy place, dear.” she whispered over Maya's shoulder expelling chilly breath on the nape of Maya's neck.
  16. Sienna didn't want to go home to her place. Now, in the late hours within Ravi' humble apartment she lay naked across expensive satin sheets, one small comfort Ravi managed to steal away from his family. Through the shadows of his home he prowled with the grace of a dancer, his muscles expanding and tightening with the power of an athlete. His eyes narrowed in the darkness as the shadows caressed his powerful frame as he crept behind his sofa an moved towards the counter... “There you are,” he said softly to himself as his perceptions locked on something out of place just a few feet ahead of him. With predatory efficiency he slowly closed the distance... and he pounced. He held up the chocolaty disc with a look of victory on his face. He'd conquered the Thin Mints. “I knew I'd more of you tricky devils lying around here.” Cookie half in his mouth he flipped on the kitchen light. In sync with the light came a knock at the door. It was past two in the morning and Ravi wasn't expecting an visitors...
  17. Mel twisted the cap off his beer and paused for a moment to stare at his hands. How did she know? Nothing in the last few days seemed to make any sense, from how he got the wounds to ho someone he'd never met before would know about them. He tipped the bottle back and almost emptied it in a single draught. He sat down in his chair, trying to shake away the weird while simultaneously glaring at the marred up floor right in front of him. He rest his head back and rubbed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Suddenly the sound of snapping fingers caught his attention, like... someone trying to actually get his attention. “Hey,” the snapping continued. The voice was a thick Jersey accent, male. Late forties, early fifties. Maybe four feet ten, five foot tall? “Wow, we got him! Man, he was easier than the librarian!” “All gone,” came a lazy voice from Mel's kitchen. “Dreams are all he has left.” “Yeah, too right,” the snapping persisted and Mel lazily opened to come face to face with... a rabbit-man wearing a hoodie? “Hey, you with us?” “Freak out.” Came the lazy voice from the kitchen. “Three. Two...”
  18. The night had turned into a social train wreck. Within moments he keys were on the counter, her dress was on the bed, and she was in her favorite workout gear. Maybe an hour or two in the gym would help her burn off the seething rage that burned just below the surface of her skin. Tonight was a prime example of why that wold of high society wasn't for her. She was raw, pure, simple and honest. She didn't, and wouldn't compromise her ethics for a single cent of blood money... and the whole studio tonight reeked of it. She walked from her room, popping her ear buds in her ears and set her phone's play list as she scooped her keys up from the counter. She walked to the door and with a twist of the knob swung it open to stand face to face with Horatio, hand raised as if about to knock. Stunned, he stood back. “Casey... uh, look, we really need to talk.”
  19. Ravenna D'Sombra Evil Opportunist Quote: “Spare me your moral foot stomping. 'Evil' is simply a point of view. Each of us on this Earth are our Devil and in time, we always find a way to make this world our personal Hell. I've no time for such things.” Background: Ms. D'Sombra is one of the wealthiest women in the world since the last of her family past away a few years ago. As heir to an entire fortune she went from reclusive young starlet to CEO of not only several media companies, such as NYX Imaging Studios and Nox Publications, but also Tenebrose, an international shipping conglomerate. Putting her, in a few short weeks, to the third wealthiest woman in the world and the wealthiest woman in New York. She also owns a Manhattan nightclub, Calignos, where she spends her off hours entertaining clients and business partners. Description: Ravenna is always dressed for success, usually in the latest fashions and always in the darkest of blacks, boasting that if she's going to be making a killing in the business world, at least she's already dressed for its funeral. Storytelling Hints: You are the third richest woman in the world. Act like it. Commanding, domineering, and never forget that everyone works for you. You own the room and everyone in it and don't allow a single soul to leave without thanking you for the opportunity to spend only a few moments in your awe inspiring presence of greatness. There are no rules for this life. Sure, people will preach all up and down the streets that there are, but the reality is simply that for all their preaching, they will innevitably fail to live up to their own standards. Money, sex, drugs, violence... everyone has a price. Find it and make sure they know know who they're really working for.
  20. From the dim light the spirit rose. An elemental of water swished through the brackish pool of stagnant, putrid water. Jadzia had made a miscalculation. This was not Domwu'Agnu. No, something else had answered her call. It's for was black, polluted water and within it's liquid shade swirled the drowned, rotting corpses of rats. The sound it made was a mix between a zombie's moan and a drowned gurgle as it approached the running team. Jadzia had control of it for now... but how long could she keep it?
  21. They made their down the musty, dank concrete hallway. The scent, whatever it was, seemingly moist feces and decaying garbage, only got stronger as they made their way through the tight passageway (which only two people abreast could fit into at a time). This was the life... dank basements, abandoned sewer tunnels, haunted crypts... there wasn't much Shadowrunners weren't asked to do and most days, besides a payday, the best thing you could hope for was a shower and some booze to wash the day away. [Magic, Astral Senses] The air down here was heavy, moist, but damp... but it was also... something else. It was saturated with something unnatural and while it had no scent or taste or appearance... it was still there. That feeling down along the spine that one felt as a ghost passed through the living. A chill. A hunch. Something was down here. The laundry room wasn't too far from the stairway. Off to the left there was a thick, brick trabeation that lead into the laundry room. It was a room that you entered after going down two small concrete steps designed to keep the rest of the basement from flooding if the washroom flooded. Unfortunately... it was flooded. Lumpy, black stagnant water rippled in the laundry room as the washers and dryers were all stacked across the walls and a two by two placing down the middle of the room. [Perception] By looks of it it was about knee deep, but nothing within the room seemed out of place aside from the water which had long one stagnant and nasty, possibly polluted if any of the laundry chemicals had been left behind and soaked into it and the reasons for the lumps became obvious... it was filled with hundreds, if no thousands of dead rats! [Perception] Down, into the shadows where the light failed to reach they could all see it... where the corridor become onyx and unknown... there they were... like a demonic night's sky... the perfect square of the coridor's darkness was lit up with hundreds, if not thousands of of tiny little red eyes blinking in in random patters from floor to ceiling...
  22. The stairs, at one point in the last century, had been concrete poured into sturdy metallic framework. At some point those collapsed, were gutted and wooden were built. Those probably collapsed a few times too at some point, because these new steps were certainly not the most finely crafted. With the exception of Jenny, every step made a low, long creek that seemed right out of a horror trid. This wasn't grandma's basement... this was the basement of a large apartment building. It was brick and cement and several passages that led off to laundry facilities, a boiler room, electrical and plumbing... the basement was, to say the least, huge. Then... the door closed and they were all left in the pitch black of the eerie basement. In the pitch black everyone spun about to face the door (to the best of their memory). "Relax, relax..." Piper offered in a low whisper, clicking a flashlight on. Those with low light vision winced slightly. "...They're locking it up in case something is dangerous down here. We're fine. Jerry is by the door waiting to let us out if we need to make a quick exit, but they're worried for their safety, so we had to compromise." She shined her light down the steps, of which she was already half way down. "Well, c'mon, lets get this over with... I have no idea where this thing is, I've never been down here..." From where they were nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Piper's red light scanned the area. It was cold and filthy and something down here stank. Stank bad. A small plague of rats scurried away at the shuffle and noise of the four ladies arriving. The floor was damp and scattered puddles seemed to dot the hallway that stretched out before them... ...this was going to be a long night.
  23. "Eccellente," Mr. Johnson said calmly. "Do try to be discreet, but I know the nature of the job all to well. I trust your discretion. Do this, and I may have more work for you." As he was finishing his sentence two dancers apprached the table with devilish smirks on their faces. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Ragazzi, vedete fuori il signore." The two bodyguards turned to the table and gave the message, very clearly, that business was concluded. The runners left without incident, the guards weren't handsy and remained professional. They moved through the crowd of people and dancers and servers, and within a few moments were out in the streets of Downtown. It was dark and wet and the rain poured down from the sky like heaven's bath tub had the drain pulled. They stood under the cloth over hang leading to the club's entrance. People weren't exactly lining up to get in this place tonight, so they had a few moments. "Name's Mycroft." The dwarf offered. He extended his hand, and the men shared a classical gentleman's handshake. "Chunin." Replied the man. "The hell is a Chunin?" He asked in typical dwarven gruff. "The hell is a Myrcoft?" Retorted the strange human. "Fair point." The dwarf shrugged. "What say we go find a shady spot and talk business. We'll take my car, since your genius self decided to ride a motorcycle in the rain." "How did you know that?" Chunin asked. "That I rode a motorcycle. It wasn't raining when I get here a bit ago." Mycroft throaty 'harumph'. "I'm a dwarf, boy. We drink and we know things. Car's this way." He nodded off to the side and began walking. "I'm impressed," Chunin said, fiddling with his commlink as he followed the dwarf. "But, I have ground rules. I don't go all the way on the first date. Non-negotiable. Heavy petting, that's all you're getting." The dwarf grumbled under the sound of the rain. This was going to be a long night.
  24. "Beleg!" She clapped her hands and bounced up from her place on the steps and walked past the ladies. She motioned for them to follow her. "Afad-nin. Uh, I mean, follow me, sorry." The Sperethiel seems more common to her than English, but she didn't dwell on the ceremony of mixing languages long enough for it become a topic of conversation. Not far from her little closet, down the hall to the right was a single door that, for the most part seemed pretty unassuming. It was old, torn to shit and smeared in graffiti, but it seemed like it was solid and sturdy enough. The series of locks and bolts, plus the bar across it, made them all wonder if they were keeping a herd of ghouls down there to feed the local Shadowrunners to... but hey, Redmond... that'd be par for the course. After what was almost a comedic bout of unlocking and unbarring of the door Piper open it and stood aside. They'd all seen this trid before... a sinlge creaky staircase that led down into the pitch blackness. The light from the hallway, which was already weak to begin with, barely reached far enough down the steps to show the cement floor at the bottom for maybe a couple of feet. What was beyond was all darkness. "So, um," Piper chimed of in a quiet whisper. "I have no idea what's down there. The well was here before I moved in, so uh... we're kind of on our own."
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