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Immortal Desires Detritus's GURPS World of Darkness PbP game.

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Old 05-03-2010, 11:41 PM
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Default Waking with evening's freshness (Rosalyn, Wed. 4/4/07)

You open your eyes, fragments of the previous day's dreams bouncing around in your head: long ago meetings with elder Kindred and other luminaries of the supernatural community, prison rescues, the last time you saw your brother, just before draining him dry in your first nights as Kindred. You're lying on a large bed, and turning to your left, you see your sire, still asleep, lying next to you. When you turn to your right, you see the Councilor standing at the side of the bed, studying you, specifically you, in silence.

"Did you rest well?"
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Old 05-04-2010, 03:15 PM
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"Very informatively"
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Old 05-04-2010, 07:25 PM
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"I wonder," the Councilor says, and her eyes move to your sire, "who is the ultimate source of this information. Or even if there is more than one such source." She looks back to you and asks, "Did you feel at all as if you were sharing your dreams?"

((As far as you can tell, the answer is no, which you may render as you see fit for Rosalyn's response.))
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Old 05-05-2010, 01:25 AM
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Rosalyn considers a bit then shakes her head

"As far I can tell I was alone"
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Old 05-08-2010, 05:44 AM
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"I think there is still a chance that Sidana could be influencing you directly, Rosalyn," the Councilor says. "Especially if she is receiving support from Goratrix." A fleeting look that you can only describe as worry crosses Meerlinda's face when she names the renegade Tremere Councilor. "You are well-protected here, but it is possible to raise better protection still for you."

"I thought we had decided against that, Councilor," Gwynnis says, evidently having woken up during this last exchange. "She has as much claim to those memories has her alter ego, anyways."

"I believe sunrise decided matters last night," replies Meerlinda. "Given enough time, however, I can protect us all far beyond what a simple warding of the room can provide. There are other avenues of investigation, and memory recovery."

"You barely had time for yourself last night. Tripling up the preparation time seems wasteful."

"You may forgo protection if you wish, Justicar, but should not Rosalyn decide for herself? She is certainly the most vulnerable amongst we three, in her present condition." Gwynnis looks at Meerlinda for a long moment, then throws up her hands.

"If you wish it, Councilor. Rosalyn, what the Councilor is proposing is to protect your dreams from intrusion, by means of a protective spell that she would cast upon you directly. It is not harmful, but it is somewhat time-consuming, and time is of the essence here. Nonetheless, if you feel you need such protection, the Councilor can provide it."
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Old 05-08-2010, 05:55 PM
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"I do not believe there was any harm to the dreams, so I do not think it will be needed, but thank you for the offer"
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Old 05-08-2010, 11:52 PM
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((What Rosalyn knows right now is all she has to go on in this next exchange.))

"As you wish," the Councilor replies. Her face and tone of voice seem neutral enough, yet you still get the sense that she believes both you and your sire are taking a needless risk.

"There's no need to pout, Meerlinda," Gwynnis says. "Though, you're really pretty when you do. I think someone is angling for a dose of the joy buzzer for herself tonight." The Councilor's lips compress for a moment before she can smooth her face.

"That will not be necessary," the Councilor says.

"Suit yourself," your sire replies, a sardonic grin on her face. Then there's a knock at the door, which the Councilor answers.

"May we enter, Councilor?" Rebekka asks. "There is a newcomer to the city, one I think the Justicar will be interested in seeing." Meerlinda lowers the ward protecting the room to admit several women: the Prince, Dru and Brooke, and a brown-haired woman of a height with Rebekka. Prince and Councilor move to the bed, and the brown-haired woman speaks.

"As is the Tradition, I recite the lineage of Magdalene Defoe, Toreador of the 7th Generation. My name is Magdalene Defoe. I am Toreador. My sire is Sidana Quinnell."

"Welcome to New Orleans, Mag," the Prince replies. Both your sire and the Councilor study you for any reaction. Dru and Brooke do as well, for that matter, and Sidana's childe is so intent on the Prince's face that she might as well be staring at you.

"Thank you, my Prince, and I once again congratulate you on ascending to rule here in New Orleans."
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Old 05-20-2010, 02:50 AM
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Default Sidana The Teenage Prince

((This incident happens somewhere around 1707-8. There's no strong driver for the timing to be any particular moment, and Rosalyn would be hard-pressed to provide a precise date anyways.))

You find yourself in a room that seems strange for a moment before you realize it's the Presence Chamber in Kensington Palace. You're seated in the only chair in the room, a curve-legged piece placed before the cold fireplace, one of many pieces like it in London named after Queen Anne, the monarch-turned-childe that stands before you to your right. Standing with her is 17th-century London's Ventrue Primogen, Helena Casimir. To your left stands your sire, and behind her the same woman who has just walked through the door to the master bedroom in New Orleans, your childe, Magdalene.

A number of London's immortal luminaries stand behind the two pair of Kindred nearest to you. Councilor Meerlinda and her progeny, Dr. John Dee, the Tremere Regent and Primogen, stand directly opposite of where you sit. With them is Oliver Thrace, whom John has recently given the Embrace, with your permission. Rebekka is also in attendance, having just arrived from Paris and already presented herself to you earlier in the evening. The Malkavian Primogen, Mariel, is there with her own newly sired childe, Drusilla. And Wynn, Gangrel Primogen of London, is there with his own childe, Quinton McDonnell. These childer were also sired with your explicit consent, and all three have been recently accepted as neonates into London's Kindred society. Gwynnis is first to speak.

"The facts of the matter are plain, my Prince, and not under dispute. The sovereign ruler of the British Empire, Queen Anne, was given an illicit Embrace in an attempt to undermine the well-established order of the Kindred community. Her sire fled after his plans amounted to nothing more than the wind and dust of abject failure, and he has neglected to release his childe into proper Kindred society. On the basis of the violation of the Tradition of the Accounting, and the destabilizing threat her mortal identity places upon our society, she must be put to the Final Death."

"No one disputes the irregularity of Anne's Embrace, Majesty," says Helena, "but I must dispute your esteemed sire's interpretation of events. Her Majesty the Queen was Embraced by an interloper, and against the express wishes of the Ventrue of London. It was the Ventrue who secured her and who watched over her, both for her own protection and that of the Commonwealth's, as well as to ensure that the stability of Kindred relations was maintained despite the irregularities surrounding the Queen's Embrace. On behalf of my clan, I beg of you, Majesty, to show clemency in this case. Spare the Queen, and permit her to claim the status of neonate."

"You mean that you kept her as a sacrificial offering if your petty schemes blew up in your face," Gwynnis says dryly. Helena turns and scowls at your sire for a moment before smoothing her face again.

"Your plea for clemency is moving, Primogen," you say with just a touch of frost in your voice, "yet it is not wholly convincing." You hold Helena's gaze in silence until you're sure she understands the intentionality of the double meaning of your words, that you're aware of her feeble attempt at deception. "And how do the other Primogen advise?"

"The balance of power between the Crown and its ministers has long favored the ministers," says John, "whom we control almost exclusively between us, Majesty. It is my opinion that the sitting monarch is of little concern to us as a neonate, but that her destruction would be upsetting enough to the mortal order that it is best to be avoided, if at all possible."

"The childe's mortal identity is immaterial," Mariel puts in in animated fashion. She strides forward until she nearly blocks the line of sight between you and your sire, and faces towards the Ventrue. "Acceding to Primogen Casimir's request would set a dangerous precedent. Who will be next to employ such a gambit, emboldened by your lack of reaction in this case? She must be put to the Final Death!"

Mariel points at Anne, and a spark forms on her fingertip. Magdalene's eyes widen in alarm, and she instinctively shrinks back until she's arm-in-arm with Drusilla. Both neonates begin to turn away from the elder Malkavian. Gwynnis moves to interpose herself between Mariel and the Ventrue at the first crackling sound, and Meerlinda raises an arm in a warding gesture. The other Tremere watch Mariel warily, as do the Gangrel.

"Lady Thunder," your sire says, unable to contain a grin despite the gravity of the situation, "we agree on what must be done, yet it is neither your place nor mine to carry out any sentence before it is pronounced by Her Majesty the Prince."

Mariel looks down, startled to see herself sparking. She pinches her fingertip as if snuffing out a taper, and then curtsies deeply to you.

"Forgive me, Majesty. I do forget myself, at times, in my moments of passion. Yet my shortcomings do not diminish the danger that the neonate Queen represents if allowed further existence."

"I would have you no other way than what you are, my Lady," you reply with a little smile of your own. "So long as you take care to heed the reminders when you do forget yourself."

"Of course, Majesty." Mariel makes a shallow curtsy and returns to the side of Drusilla. You and Gwynnis make eye contact, after which your sire follows Mariel, keeping her within arm's reach. You then turn to Wynn as if Mariel's outburst had never happened.

"I would counsel mercy, Your Majesty," Wynn says after taking a moment to size up Anne. "Her temporal power will only diminish, as she will be forced to rely on her ministers even more in matters of day-to-day governance than she does now. You command the respect of every Kindred in this Domain, and have many powerful allies. You need not avenge yourself on a childe who had no idea of the situation her sire thrust her into."

"Kindred who transgress and are lightly punished have long centuries available to them to nurse grudges and rally support, Majesty," Councilor Meerlinda offers unprompted. "The childe's destruction is the only way to ensure that you have eliminated this possibility. You must be aware of this from your own mortal family's history."

"Thank you, Councilor, your point is well taken, yet I shall take John's input as the official vote of Clan Tremere." Meerlinda nods without adding anything else.

"Fortune smiles upon you, childe, for the neutral clans have voted two to one in favor of a stay of execution, and We are inclined to accept their advice in this matter. Yet those who have counseled against leniency have all raised valid points. We therefore reject the petition for your acceptance into the larger Kindred community in London.

"Helena Casimir, it falls to you, as Primogen of Clan Ventrue, to act as surrogate sire in the absentee sire's stead. We shall reconsider a petition of Anne's acceptance into the Camarilla at such time as you deem her fit to be so accepted. If We are in any way dissatisfied in the matter of this future petition, We shall declare a Blood Hunt on the persons of both childe and sire."

You pause to let the import of your pronouncement sink in a little before continuing.

"Teach her well, Primogen. If We may be so bold to suggest it, it occurs to Us that a fine first lesson would cover what it means for a childe created without the Prince's permission to be the same generation as the Prince's sire." You smile and extend your fangs for an instant. "We trust that you will be equally passionate as those who have argued for the Traditions to be upheld in the strictest manner possible."

Mariel then smiles and extends her fangs, and for an instant a sliver of blue lightning arcs between her upper canines. Such of her mortal coloring as still remains to Anne drains from her face, and Helena averts her eyes and clenches her jaw before making a deep curtsy to you.

"As you command, Majesty, so shall it be done," the Ventrue Primogen says without raising her eyes, though she does signal for Anne to make similar obeisance. The sovereign ruler of the British Empire complies with haste.

"Thank you, Primogen. It seems your pupil is educable, to some degree. Cleave to the Traditions, serve London and its ruler well, and you shall both reap the rewards." After childe and surrogate sire rise, you sweep your arm around the room as a reminder of what one of those rewards might be, then rise in silence to take your leave of the Presence Chamber.

"Court is adjourned," you hear Gwynnis say just before you exit the room.
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Old 05-21-2010, 06:54 PM
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When you come to again, everyone else in the room is looking at you with varying degrees of curiosity.

"Where were you just now?" your sire asks softly.
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Old 05-30-2010, 03:43 AM
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Before Rosalyn has a chance to answer her sire's question, Dee Dee leads Jake into the room.

"We've gotten some interesting results from our questioning," the Sheriff says without preamble. "There's no doubt in my mind that young Bobby has been compromised through use of Dominate. By Drake."

"How extensive is her control?" Rebekka asks.

"Very," Dee Dee replies. "We got some answers from him concerning Mr. Johnson's network setup that didn't add up, so we had him draw everything out. It was complete garbage, according to Jake, but Bobby believed he had given us what we'd asked for. It's bad, more than I can fix."

"This evening is likely to be very busy," Gwynnis says, rising from the bed. "If he's been that severely compromised, it could take hours to fix, if not several nights."

"I still think that you or another of the elders with lots of experience using Dominate should have a look at him, at least. To see just how bad it is, if nothing else."

"That would have to be you, Justicar," Rebekka says. "The Councilor and I will be busy for much of the evening."

"I may be in the field tonight, depending on what happens during the meeting with the Garou. If not, I will be sure to have a look. You're sure no one else was compromised?" The Justicar directs a sharp-eyed look at Jake for a moment before returning her attention to Dee Dee.

"Jake's clean, sire."

"I'd rather not wait until the childe is rid of Samantha's influence to learn about what he was doing," Rebekka says. "Jake should investigate Bobby's haven."

"I had that same thought myself, Majesty. I wasn't sure what needed to be done for Jake to be able to pass whatever it was the Councilor did to sequester the building, though."

"The procedure would be simple enough, if he would consent to it," Meerlinda says. "It will require a small amount of his vitae." For some reason, the Councilor's eyes remind you of a pair of scales after she turns her gaze upon you.
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