DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
HTML https://anywherecafe.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: RP Threads
*****************************************************
#Post#: 821--------------------------------------------------
Make Art Not Friends
By: calliamity Date: January 26, 2025, 12:17 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Clara Groves
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AClDOVvXIyNBIrirOsyQwbWX2l07LWgEWZfKHCT1Tn0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]Everybody in this party's fuckin' fake - and so am I,
but I just got here so I gotta show some face.[/center]
[center]Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice[/center]
[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/HCJzm2X.png[/float]
[hr]
[BR]
She's distracted by the events of a week ago. Time blurs
together a bit once you're past a century, feels like fifteen
minutes ago. It feels like she'd left the scene, walked into
this club, and just now sat down even though she's been here for
hours. The music is goose, nothing she'd ever like, but
Sebastian had taught her about noise canceling headsets and
she's got Ravel's Gaspard de la nuit playing in place of the
underground rap everyone else is dancing to like their bodies
are on fire.[BR][BR]VIP doesn't mean important, it just means
rich, and she is, so she has her own table in a railed off
section and it's populated by people who look... fine, they're
fine, and they don't smell like sweat. She doesn't know them
from Adam and she's on autopilot with the timely giggles and
smiles as she eyes the menu for her next meal. In what feels
like a past life she couldn't afford to be too picky but now, in
the age of instant communication, it's better to pick someone
her size or smaller, someone who won't assume they could
overpower her.[BR][BR]Usually it's a girl, but not always. That
part, at least, continues not to matter.[BR][BR]The Russians had
been new imports, vouched for by other Russians whom she'd been
dealing with for years. They hadn't known the rules. But now,
resting in their watery tomb, she expects they understand. Clara
spots someone she thinks she knows and adjusts her soft pink
cardigan, making her presentation just right.[BR][BR]But her
eyes still take a quick flick downward, half-expecting to see
bullet holes.
#Post#: 822--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: BIGDoor82 Date: January 26, 2025, 12:35 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/6a302a4b-a9a8-45c8-9a96-7fa3d8265651.jpg[/float]
Anastasia
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yuv9sYaXkuwEkW019zVwwtGGI8UuUKc-loUkYIXI8DE/edit?tab=t.0[br]Stacy[br][br]Young<br
/>hearts, out our minds[br]Runnin' 'til we outta time[br]Wild
childs, lookin' good[br]Livin' hard just like we
should[br]-Kesha[br][br][Approved][br]Malkavian | Oracular
Ability[br]Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
Hallucinations[br]BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6
[hr]
It's been a few nights since I had the vision of the box and the
dead man. Since then he's been in my dreams. Nothing he says
makes sense. It's all jumbled words, incoherent, messy. I don't
know what it means, if anything. Tonight though, as I wander
into the Ivory Rose, following the sparkles, listening to the
whispers. The usual. I spy Clara, sitting alone, as usual.
I glide through the kine, enjoying their smell. I'm wearing what
most girls here are wearing, pieces of cloth that barely cover
me and glitter! It's a sparkly light pink top that covers me
boobs with a triangular piece of cloth and a matching miniskirt
and a pair of heels. I come here because I like the attention
and these clothes make hunting so much easier.
I plop down in the seat next to Clara, legs crossed, because I
do have some modesty, most of the time... “Hey, babes.” I say
with a grin. I'm wearing glitter makeup, as usual. “Enjoying
your music?” Yeah, I know she isn't listening to the music in
the club. She's an old lady, of course she isn't gonna like
modern music.
#Post#: 824--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: calliamity Date: January 26, 2025, 12:56 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Clara Groves
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AClDOVvXIyNBIrirOsyQwbWX2l07LWgEWZfKHCT1Tn0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]Everybody in this party's fuckin' fake - and so am I,
but I just got here so I gotta show some face.[/center]
[center]Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice[/center]
[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/HCJzm2X.png[/float]
[hr]
[BR]
She hadn't even noticed when her table-mates had left to dance,
leaving an army of dead soldiers, empty bottles and cups and
shotglasses, in their wake. Her own drink is two fingers of
scotch whisky, the rocks have long since melted, and of course
she hadn't ever touched it at all. Stacy's appearance breaks the
spell, the reverie, whatever you'd call it. It wasn't anything
either pleasant or unpleasant. Just a senior moment.[BR][BR]She
returns a smile that turns into a wince for just a second or two
after she carefully extracts her wraparound headset from under
her hair, where it had been cleverly hidden. The music is
unavoidable now. Gross. "Well, I was," she laughs. Her accent's
mostly gone. Mostly. But like the revenant herself it comes back
to life in moments of stress. Distress. Or rage. Not applicable
now. "Thinking of getting something to eat." The
usual.[BR][BR]She leans a shoulder against Anastasia, rests her
head against the other vampire's. Signaling, to others. To the
ones who are undoubtedly watching. Company not welcome. "Here to
dance, or something else?"
#Post#: 825--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: BIGDoor82 Date: January 26, 2025, 5:45 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/6a302a4b-a9a8-45c8-9a96-7fa3d8265651.jpg[/float]
Anastasia
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yuv9sYaXkuwEkW019zVwwtGGI8UuUKc-loUkYIXI8DE/edit?tab=t.0[br]Stacy[br][br]Young<br
/>hearts, out our minds[br]Runnin' 'til we outta time[br]Wild
childs, lookin' good[br]Livin' hard just like we
should[br]-Kesha[br][br][Approved][br]Malkavian | Oracular
Ability[br]Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
Hallucinations[br]BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6
[hr]
I lean my head against her's. “Waiting for MK, then dancing,
yeah. Got something to share with you two, later though.” I say,
smiling. The vision, even a few days later, is still tumbling
around my brain, clear as day. That's a little unusual, but not
so much so that it's strange.
“Still not a fan of modern music, eh?” I say with a laugh. Bach,
Brahms, Wagner, Vivaldi, Mozart, Ravel. The whispers flow
through my head, naming names I have to assume are composers. I
only recognizes a few of the names. Each name has a different
color of sparkle. They flow around the room, dancing to the
music, and I watch, distractedly...“Pretty” I say, my eyes
moving around, seemingly to the sound of the music as the
sparkles dance and flow around the room.
#Post#: 826--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: calliamity Date: January 26, 2025, 6:11 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Clara Groves
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AClDOVvXIyNBIrirOsyQwbWX2l07LWgEWZfKHCT1Tn0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]Everybody in this party's fuckin' fake - and so am I,
but I just got here so I gotta show some face.[/center]
[center]Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice[/center]
[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/HCJzm2X.png[/float]
[hr]
[BR]
"I wasn't even a fan of modern music in my time," Clara notes -
a bit of a loaded term, since her time is not the '00s or the
'90s or even the '80s. Someone had played Swan Lake at a saloon
she visited and she'd had been a bit of a spiritual awakening.
Maynard hadn't had to try very hard to turn her onto even older
music. Piano, orchestra, opera. Sebastian had called Wagner
'Nazi music', which had turned into a history lesson with her
rather simple-minded ghoul and, as a consequence, she didn't
listen to Wagner much anymore.[BR][BR]American vampires had been
a lot less cosmopolitan back in those days. Like how, if she'd
been embraced more recently, she probably would've been warned
against feeling comfortable around a Malkavian. Yet here she is.
And she'd never really seemed to agonize over it. "Gone a lil
topsy again, Anastasia?" The words murmured, not unfondly, as
she notices the other leach start to zone out. She's getting
glitter in her damn hair just by being this close to her, but as
unfortunate as that may be it does serve to make her look less
out of place here.
#Post#: 828--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: BIGDoor82 Date: January 26, 2025, 6:44 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/6a302a4b-a9a8-45c8-9a96-7fa3d8265651.jpg[/float]
Anastasia
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yuv9sYaXkuwEkW019zVwwtGGI8UuUKc-loUkYIXI8DE/edit?tab=t.0[br]Stacy[br][br]Young<br
/>hearts, out our minds[br]Runnin' 'til we outta time[br]Wild
childs, lookin' good[br]Livin' hard just like we
should[br]-Kesha[br][br][Approved][br]Malkavian | Oracular
Ability[br]Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
Hallucinations[br]BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 3/4 | Humanity: 6 [hr]
“Hmm?” I look down from my reverie. “Right, sorry. I jus...The
composers are dancing in the rafters with dreams of
glitter-dust.” I say with a smile as if any of that made any
sense what so ever. The gift of Malkav... It's not always easy
to understand. Even for us, his Childer.
“I like music. Don't care where it comes from as long as I can
dance to it.” And I know I can dance to the music Clara likes. I
did it like two weeks ago when I had everyone over at my house.
Clara's is bigger, but mine is more homey, I think. I like
there, so yeah, it's more homey, because it's my home. Anyway,
dancing to classical isn't hard if you're hammered on the blood
of drunk college frat boys.
“So tell me, anything new?” I ask, straightening myself in my
chair, I force the sparkles and whispers down, into the
background of my mind. ((WP to suppress derangement for 1
scene)) “Find a new boy to play with, or girl, or both?” I tend
to have try to get at least 3 of each before the end of the
week. I like variety in my meals.
#Post#: 832--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: calliamity Date: January 26, 2025, 7:29 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Clara Groves
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AClDOVvXIyNBIrirOsyQwbWX2l07LWgEWZfKHCT1Tn0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]Everybody in this party's fuckin' fake - and so am I,
but I just got here so I gotta show some face.[/center]
[center]Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice[/center]
[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/HCJzm2X.png[/float]
[hr]
[BR]
"Don't apologize for being you." She's said that before, and
consistently, but always in a patient sort of way, like she
knows she'll say it again someday. Stacy reads a beauty into the
world that Clara can't even begin to comprehend, and while in
life the gunslinger had never been especially superficial, in
death she's got the same curse as her sire and his sire and the
one before him too. In a way it can be almost as inconvenient as
that of a childe of Malkav, and it could (accurately, she
supposes) be described as a madness all its own.[BR][BR]Even
though she knows there's nothing there, she does peer briefly
upward. Maybe someday, there will be. "I do not play with my
food." Another thing she's said before. And will again. They're
all random, one-time affairs. Sometimes, there's a body to deal
with in the aftermath, but she leaves disposal duties up to
Sebastian's well-compensated connections. Intimacy only lasts
long enough for her to get her fangs in and she's gone in the
aftermath, one way or another, no kissing, no cuddling. Not
built like Anastasia. It makes her stomach flip to
consider.[BR][BR]But she supposes that, when they'd been alive,
they'd led very different lives, with very different
upbringings. "What's the bad medicine? Gonna need iron?" The
corset under her cardigan conceals a gold-plated Remington Model
95 with pearl grips, which Stacy had surely seen before. Her
purse has a pull tab on the side worn against her body to gain
access to a holster that could hold just about any number of
larger handguns, though, so it's hard to say what she has on
her.[BR][BR]Whatever it is, it's nothing compared to what she
could come up with if she knew they were in trouble.
#Post#: 840--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: VAP0RSPAC3 Date: January 27, 2025, 12:13 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right max=45%][img
width=300]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/14ac25d8-632f-48a3-9c2d-143fe6c951a1.jpg?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=image[/img][/float]
[left]"Don't talk like you don't want me.
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"[/left]
[center]M'Kayleigh Bancroft
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/26053570-bd22-4e88-9d16-b3ab9ea6e3ff.jpg?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=image[/center]
[center]Ventrue Neonate - Fame:1 Club Promoter[/center]
[left]"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to
go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say
you're ready to go."
App:4 Exotic | Cha:3 | Presence: Awe - 2 Succ | Blush of
Health[/left]
[hr]
M'Kayleigh was already there. She had been there since shortly
after most of the staff arrived for the night, but well after
sunset. Her bright purple and pink Subaru BRZ was parked
sideways out front, as usual. She spent the early part of her
evening slinking around the club touching base with the various
staff members, the resident DJ, bartender and bottle service
girls, and a number of lower level promoters and influencers in
VIP. Now though, she was backstage near the DJ booth bouncing
along to the House music as she snapped her phone into a small
handheld stabilizer, and prepped for her stage appearance for
the night.
She emerges from the back and steps into the DJ Booth as the
music reaches it's natural transition. She repeats back to
herself 'thirty-two beats, four eight's. MK, you got this' She
winks to the DJ and taps a short series of buttons on the DJ
controller that loops the intro of the next song, while lowering
the overall volume of the music, and sends her mic to the main
audio out. She pulls her phone up to eye level and throws on a
winning smile as she goes live on multiple platforms from the DJ
Booth. "WOOOOO. It's ya girl MK. AT Party Princess MK. Hashtag
Ivory Rose Nightclub. Hashtag DJ Housecat. Hashtag BMC media."
She swivels her phone around bringing the DJ into view. "Make
some noise for DJ Housecat, AT DJ HouseCat Tampa. He's bringing
you the hottest and sexiest Deep House tracks in that yummy 120
BMP heart thumping tempo ya know and love. Ya gotta be here to
believe it. Now go tip your fvcking bartender."
She grins and clicks her phone off around twenty four beats,
allowing herself a full eight counts to bounce to the music
before tapping the cue button and transitioning into the next
song for DJ Housecat to mix. She begins to make her way out of
the booth and down the side steps onto the dancefloor. Her
petite form is covered in glitter makeup and brightly colored
fabric of similar reflectiveness causing her to shimmer as she
slides through the mass of people on the dancefloor between the
DJ booth and her Kindred besties waiting at their usual table
making small talk, or whatever. "Heya besties! How my certified
BADDIES doin tonight? The dancefloor is lit, straight fuego. Its
giving fire truck emoji right now and I'm so here for it" She
glances between the two girls as she takes a seat between them,
quickly scanning the room before turning her attention to Stacy.
#Post#: 841--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: BIGDoor82 Date: January 27, 2025, 1:49 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/6a302a4b-a9a8-45c8-9a96-7fa3d8265651.jpg[/float]
Anastasia
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yuv9sYaXkuwEkW019zVwwtGGI8UuUKc-loUkYIXI8DE/edit?tab=t.0[br]Stacy[br][br]Young<br
/>hearts, out our minds[br]Runnin' 'til we outta time[br]Wild
childs, lookin' good[br]Livin' hard just like we
should[br]-Kesha[br][br][Approved][br]Malkavian | Oracular
Ability[br]Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers)
Hallucinations[br]BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 3/4 | Humanity: 6 [hr]
Me, apologize for being me? That's not what I was apologizing
for! “I get distracted is all.” It's not an apology. It's the
truth. And it's usually at the worst possible moments too. I
can't help it either. Still, Clara knows me pretty well. We've
been friends for a few months. I've known MK for about that
long, though she's still new to the Blood.
“It might.” In reference to Clara asking if this might require
iron. “The man is coming, but I don't know when.” I add, which
might seem out of the blue as I having expressed just what I
need to tell them.
I'm about to say I'll say the rest when MK arrives, but MK
arrives! “Hey, Babes!” I say, and hug her, and kiss her. It's
all platonic, of course. More people should kiss their friends!
MK uses a lot of that modern Gen Z slang. I don't really
understand a lot of it, but there's translation in the context,
if you know what it is. “Had a vision.” I say, tone serious, but
still relaxed.
I explain the vision to them, both the vision of the box, and
the feeling that we're going to be visited. “So the man is
coming. I don't know when, or what he brings, but I know there
is...something important... There is potential
for...something...” I tell them. MK and Clara might notice that
currently I'm more lucid than normal. I'm forcing down the gift
of Malkav so I can more easily explain and communicate.
#Post#: 843--------------------------------------------------
Re: Make Art Not Friends
By: calliamity Date: January 27, 2025, 2:10 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Clara Groves
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AClDOVvXIyNBIrirOsyQwbWX2l07LWgEWZfKHCT1Tn0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]Everybody in this party's fuckin' fake - and so am I,
but I just got here so I gotta show some face.[/center]
[center]Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice[/center]
[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/HCJzm2X.png[/float]
[hr]
[BR]
"And that's part of who you are," Clara points out. They have
that in common, if nothing else. She's needed to be physically
removed from something that caught her fixation more than once
too. Small things like that are the glue that holds the trio
together, but it gets more complicated too. Her allies are
pretty and she surrounds herself with pretty people, as any
proper Toreador. And they're less apt to betray her because they
aren't high enough on the food chain to get much advantage from
it. In return, she provides her status, and her connection with
the Sheriff. It's not very attractive to overanalyze these
things, though.[BR][BR]She barely registers MK's stage
appearance, having made a concerted effort all night to ignore
what was going on up there. But now, here she is, like a
hurricane with fruity body spray. Clara detaches herself from
Stacy to make room, then leans against the Ventrue in the same
way, head on shoulder. It serves the same purpose as before -
I'm here with my girls, shove off. But also, MK's skin is warm,
and it's pleasant against her cold dead cheek.[BR][BR]The arms
dealer mouths the words 'what in tarnation' when the newcomer
speaks. Sebastian had tried to explain Twitter to her once but
it had made her angrier than he'd ever seen her and he'd dropped
the subject forever. She doesn't even carry a cellphone, she
just has a big red Bakelite in her home office that looks more
fit for bashing in someone's skull. "Anastasia, ain't the time
for skittles. Is this a threat?"
*****************************************************
DIR Next Page