DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
HTML https://anywherecafe.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: RP Threads
*****************************************************
#Post#: 1071--------------------------------------------------
Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: MAT Date: March 26, 2025, 10:13 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Rudolph Longstaff
HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ZVwgFFGIlPara3FBwLIndOLpNxMUo41-94QQkEPg7BI/edit?usp=drive_link<br
/>aka Abel Beaumarchais
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/rudy/abel4.jpg[/float]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]mirror mirror[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]on the wall[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]don't say it[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]'cause i know i'm cute[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
The Tampa Museum of Art gleamed in the moonlight, its glass
walls catching the neon reflections of downtown Tampa and
warping them into something abstract - shifting colors and
distorted shapes against the darkened interior. On any other
night, the museum would probably be empty and closed, silent but
for the hum of security systems and the distant churn of the
river. But tonight, it was Elysium, neutral ground for the
city’s Camarilla residents.
Rudolph stepped through the entrance with measured ease,
adjusting the cuffs of his tailored navy blazer. Beneath it, an
open-collared wine-red shirt framed his neck and face; further
accentuating the lifelike color of his skin. Every part of his
appearance was an act; rich hues, soft textures, all carefully
chosen to suggest the casual elegance expected of a Toreador.
His fitted slacks creased just so with each step, as polished
shoes tapped out a controlled rhythm against the marble floor.
The clan of the rose was known for refinement and beauty to the
point of being entranced by them, but he had no such weakness.
He only cared about survival.
The usual bustle of tourists and art patrons had been replaced
by something quieter, more insidious. Whispers crinkled against
the walls like the leaves of a forest canopy, occasionally
broken by restrained, sterilized laughter. The air was heavy
with the careful dance of creatures who were predators by nature
but prisoners to decorum. Elysium had rules, and supposedly they
ensured a place where the lowest and the highest could mingle
peacefully.
A curator, or more likely someone’s ghoul, greeted him with a
subtle nod. Rudolph returned the nod with a slow, indulgent
smile, the kind that suggested he found something about the
scene amusing. This role was second nature by now, after over
many decades of honing and practice.
His gaze drifted across the museum’s exhibits, pretending to be
lost in admiration. Abstract paintings, centuries-old
sculptures, digital installations…humanity’s desperate pursuit
of some kind of meaning to their lives. He’d heard stories that
the embrace stripped individuals of their creativity, but that
was all just so much poppycock. Some emotions were certainly
washed out, but other darker ones were only amplified by unlife.
He’d personally endured the very creative tortures some
‘kindred’ were capable of.
Rudolph paused in front of an abstract bronze sculpture,
scanning the placard mounted below. Acheron’s Embrace. The river
of woe? An embrace? A bit on the nose. The Keeper was probably
having an absurd jest.
He let his fingers hover just shy of the twisting metal surface,
letting out a small, breathlike sound as if caught in the throes
of appreciation. A well-placed sigh. A thoughtful tilt of the
head. The self-indulgence of his vice. The craving to be
someone other than he was.
He loved every second of it.
#Post#: 1072--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: Suzy Date: March 30, 2025, 12:49 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Faith Everett
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Q5vdL981bn5xgBQDr9n1e6RjBOd5NhTucHKgImswnm0/edit?usp=sharing
[right]
HTML https://imgur.com/a/hYLMMev.jpg[/right]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Run Like Hell[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]This is the night of the hunter[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Deliriously pull the trigger,
fire[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]You are my escape artist[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Brujah | Bright Aura [/font]
[hr]
The unpleasantries were already done for the evening. Faith
didn’t have a chance to take in the sights of the museum and
scarcely had a chance to appreciate the beauty of it under the
glow of the moon in the clear skies above. There was a matter of
business to be done with the Prince, formal introductions to be
made to ensure that she aligned with the expectations of
residing here. At this point she had done quite a few of these
and she was used to the ritual of it. Being well practiced
didn’t remove the tension that built up leading to the moment.
Tension she hadn’t explained nor cared to. Sometimes the weight
of the past felt heavier at certain moments.
That weight was lifted once she was done, once she was able to
leave the private chamber and rejoin the cacophony of strangers
gathered about. Sure there were the whispers and the looks,
Faith had her own game of playing blissfully ignorant while
being perfectly aware of their whispers. If she focused just
enough she could pick up on a couple little morsels of
conversation. The disappointment was that there was hardly
anything worth listening to.
Her attire of choice blended in, a long statuesque black velvet
gown that nearly puddled around her silver shoes. The dark shape
was broken up by the strategically placed slits revealing her
pale skin. A slit up along the side of her leg stopping nearly
at her hip, another plunging downwards nearly to her naval and
the back had a similar V cut that stopped at the small of her
back. Strategically placed tape was the only thing keeping it
from shifting into almost taboo territory. It was a look, but it
was merely that. A first impression, an artistic expression of
the creator of the dress. The ability to move freely if
necessary was a must. Mostly it was to keep others guessing, to
make a striking impression that was also a distraction.
Once business was done, it was like everything else around her
came into a much sharper focus. There were plenty of things to
look at. Not all of them were pretty but she knew that they held
a great deal of value. She had found herself lost in some of the
more ancient findings. A depiction of Athena that had caught her
attention. A figure of myth and history she hadn’t even known
about until recently. Where she had been for most of her early
life and unlife didn’t really have this kind of exposure to arts
and culture.
It didn’t take long for her to spot the Toreador out of the
corner of her eye. She watched him for a few moments, half
amused by the indulgence he was allowing himself to get up and
close to one of the pieces of ‘art’. Maybe if she stared at it
long enough some kind of meaning of it would float to her. It
just didn’t stir the passions the same way it did to someone
that could truly appreciate the deeper meanings.
“Careful, Mister. Get too close and it might touch you back.”
The smirk on her lips might have teased at the idea that the
statue would spring to life. What she had really meant was a
little more deeper, she knew objects had a little bit of
resonance left behind from their owners and creators. While a
handy little trick she had honed for many years, it wasn’t
always pleasant.
“Any clue what it means?”
#Post#: 1074--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: MAT Date: March 30, 2025, 10:03 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Rudolph Longstaff
HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ZVwgFFGIlPara3FBwLIndOLpNxMUo41-94QQkEPg7BI/edit?usp=drive_link<br
/>aka Abel Beaumarchais
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/rudy/abel4.jpg[/float]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]mirror mirror[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]on the wall[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]don't say it[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]'cause i know i'm cute[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
His emerald eyes flicked sideways, and a grin crossed his face.
“Touch me?” He laughed. “If it does, I’m sure it will find me a
nice, big handful. Maybe you should give it a warning. Or just
let it find out the fun way.”
Rudolph ran his gaze down her outfit, then back up. “Nice
threads. Just get into town?” he asked, walking closer and
folding his arms over his chest. His voice lowered to just above
a conspiratorial whisper. “Everything go over with Mommy
Dearest?” he asked, referencing the Prince.
“Acheron is a river in Greece that flows into the Ionian Sea. In
Dante’s *Inferno*, it’s the barrier between Earth and Hell.
Embrace being a double-entendre of course. It could be a joke,
i.e., *welcome to Hell*. Or maybe its Camarilla propaganda; a
metaphor that this domain is the boundary that stands between us
and Hell - *the Anarch and Sabbat domains next door*.”
He shrugged. “The Keeper trying to be funny or patriotic, I
don’t know which is worse.”
Rudy extended his arm to Faith. “Let’s walk. You can tell me
what you’ve been up to lately, and I can maybe answer any
questions you have.”
#Post#: 1084--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: Suzy Date: April 3, 2025, 10:47 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Faith Everett
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Q5vdL981bn5xgBQDr9n1e6RjBOd5NhTucHKgImswnm0/edit?usp=sharing
[right]
HTML https://imgur.com/a/hYLMMev.jpg[/right]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Run Like Hell[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]This is the night of the hunter[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Deliriously pull the trigger,
fire[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]You are my escape artist[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Brujah | Bright Aura [/font]
[hr]
“I’m tempted to wait and see but we’d be standing her an awfully
long time waiting for nothing to happen.”
Well, the Brujah did lack a little whimsy and imagination. Even
trying to visualize the statue seemingly coming to life was very
short lived in her thoughts. She shot him a bit of a look, her
nose wrinkled in slight annoyance before returning back to her
usual stoic state.
“A while, getting settled in. I’ll give the club a look over,
cameras and systems. Fine tooth comb it all over, like usual. I
bet it’s doing great. Club crowd here seems much more
enthusiastic. Oh, someone with very excellent taste suggested
the designer. Thank you.”
Faith certainly enjoyed the little bits of story and other
information behind the pieces. It was interesting to hear others
talk about them and the possible hidden meanings being
discovered or revealed. It was certainly more entertaining than
actually touching the object and finding out herself. That was
sometimes messy business. There wasn’t a filter with the extra
information imbued that flew through that brief connection.
She took his arm without any hesitation, a slow and cat-like
movement, one of more formality than closeless. At least for the
moment.
“Yeah, formal introductions done. I am known and exist under
their eye. I’m just trying to get a feel for the place. Happens
every time I’ve relocated. It’s sort of delightfully nice to be
a little more clueless than knowledgeable.”
There wasn’t anything of note to really bring up or talk about.
That or it wasn’t the right company to do so.
“Sights are nice, food is great. There seems to be some tension,
competition for territories. Well, a lot of that. With someone
with that kind of ambition this would be a really interesting
challenge. You know me, I’m not politically inclined. I’d rather
unravel a mystery. What about you? There has to be curious folks
coming to your doors.”
#Post#: 1086--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: MAT Date: April 4, 2025, 9:50 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Rudolph Longstaff
HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ZVwgFFGIlPara3FBwLIndOLpNxMUo41-94QQkEPg7BI/edit?usp=drive_link<br
/>aka Abel Beaumarchais
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/rudy/abel4.jpg[/float]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]mirror mirror[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]on the wall[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]don't say it[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]'cause i know i'm cute[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
“It needs some work,” he said of the club. “Security-wise.
Physical. Personnel. I had to shed some of my assets when I left
the frigid north. Not money, of course, but contacts,
relationships, ghouls. I’m starting fresh here. Putting out some
feelers, rebuilding networks. I could definitely use your help
fortifying. I’m open to re-negotiating our relationship but I
thought what we had before worked well, if you’d like to just
pick up where we left off.”
Equals. With different skills, but synergizing for mutual
profit.
“There’s a lot more Kindred in this city, and yeah, there are
some…hostile presences nearby,” he added with a raised eyebrow.
“You know what they say: location, location, location. I started
negotiating with Angelique before I arrived. Proposed how I
could be of use; offered a boon. I suggested that I could take
up on the northwest outskirts of the city - border region with
the Anarchs that take up in Clearwater. The Sabbat are down in
St. Petersburg, though I don’t really know yet much about them.
Still, i’d much prefer to keep Tampa Bay between me and them.”
He shrugged. “I had a toddler barge in the door recently. Three
years old,” he said, chuckling. “A Ventrue, but not like any
you’ve ever met. Credit where it’s due; she had moxie. Plenty of
character and then some. She’s in some coterie: her, a Brujah, a
Malkavian, and another Toreador,” he said, putting amused
emphasis on the word ‘another’. “Wanted me to just hand over my
domain to her and her friends for feeding, and made a pretty
insulting opening bid. I don’t think she intended for it to be
such a bad offer, I think it was just inexperience. But then I
returned with a terrible counter just to kind of fuck with her,
and she got upset. The irony is that I think I could have
actually done a lot for her, but she had a head full of steam
and left with a chip on her shoulder.”
Abel smiled. “Her sire is the local clan Whip, Leo James,
conducting what I can only imagine is some kind of social
experiment. Kudos to him, it’s a fascinating thing to watch.”
He sighed. “Mark my words, though: those Spice Girls are gonna
be trouble.”
#Post#: 1113--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: Suzy Date: April 19, 2025, 4:29 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Faith Everett
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Q5vdL981bn5xgBQDr9n1e6RjBOd5NhTucHKgImswnm0/edit?usp=sharing
[right]
HTML https://imgur.com/a/hYLMMev.jpg[/right]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Run Like Hell[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]This is the night of the hunter[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Deliriously pull the trigger,
fire[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]You are my escape artist[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Brujah | Bright Aura [/font]
[hr]
“Same. I know we’ve both seen a blank slate a few
times,” there were advantages and disadvantages to
relocating. It was going to make a lot more long term financial
sense for Abel, it was also an absolute playground of
socialization, networking and well…plenty of opportunities
for fuckery.
Maybe it was how he said something that made her nose winkle
slightly and her brow reason to raise. Faith had been around
enough backstabbing kindred to know it was difficult to put much
trust into someone. To be honest, she was extremely suspicious
of Abel’s intentions, the unspoken ones, when they had
originally decided to work together. All these years and he
hadn’t given her a reason to turn her back or leave given
the opportunity.
“I’m here.”
She was having difficulty finding words. She expressed her
agreement to maintain terms with a squeeze of his arm. She hoped
that was enough. There was comfort and peace of mind in having
terms and some semblance of a contract in place. She figured she
had shown enough loyalty over the years to assure him she
wasn’t going to make a power move on his assets.
“Mmm, then I’ll make a point to be there personally
until you have reliable staffing. I don’t like the idea of
trouble coming to your domain. Please let me know the terms of
any agreements you make so that they’re
enforceable.”
Her lips tightened for other reasons, the casual mentioning of
St. Petersberg was edging onto another topic of discussion that
couldn’t really take place in their current environment.
She knew the games here, some things were best not discussed.
“I don’t have a terrible fondness of that clan,
social experiment seems like an interesting twist. Modern times
mean modern solutions I guess. Consider me warned. Speaking of
warnings, I’m taking on an intern.”
She forced out a heavy sigh. It wasn’t the smartest of her
ideas but it was the tugs of her bleeding heart that pulled her
to want to take in the stray.
“I can explain more when I can get you alone, if
you’re not too busy entertaining wee fanged
children?”
#Post#: 1128--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: MAT Date: April 26, 2025, 10:49 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Rudolph Longstaff
HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1ZVwgFFGIlPara3FBwLIndOLpNxMUo41-94QQkEPg7BI/edit?usp=drive_link<br
/>aka Abel Beaumarchais
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/rudy/abel4.jpg[/float]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]mirror mirror[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]on the wall[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]don't say it[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]'cause i know i'm cute[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
He smiled when she said she was here. “Good. We can get back to
work then. I do have a new ghoul. His name is Mortimer Clay.
Marine. Ex-military contractor. He's my head of security. I'll
tell him to set up a meeting and let him know to consult with
you.” He was still rebuilding his other networks; drugs,
supplies, police payouts, informants.
Abel tilted his head. “Do you have any immediate needs?
Otherwise I can just owe you for a later time.” They’d been
trading favors for years, and had even been partially-bound to
each other. Whatever else she might have thought about his
trustworthiness, he’d never gone back on his word or failed to
pay a debt.
Not yet, anyways.
He listened, folding his arms. “An intern, huh. I’m intrigued.
The tone of your voice and look on your face suggests that I
should instead be deeply concerned.” He didn’t look concerned,
though. He looked curious and amused.
“Do you have somewhere to stay in the city? If not, I can put
you up until you get on your feet. If you want to talk
privately, we could reconvene at my club. I doubt that
particular youngster is going to be coming back anytime soon;
she left in something of a huff.”
#Post#: 1153--------------------------------------------------
Re: Colonial Revival - Tampa
By: Suzy Date: May 21, 2025, 11:26 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Faith Everett
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Q5vdL981bn5xgBQDr9n1e6RjBOd5NhTucHKgImswnm0/edit?usp=sharing
[right]
HTML https://dicehaus.com/uimg/Suzy/Faithsmol.jpg[/right]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Run Like Hell[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]This is the night of the hunter[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Deliriously pull the trigger,
fire[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]You are my escape artist[/font]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Brujah | Bright Aura [/font]
[hr]
“Sounds like I’ll like him,” there was a touch of a smirk. She
could get a feel for how things would work out after meeting
him. If he could hold things down during the daytime, that was
valuable and important. Important enough not to mess around and
keep things professional.
“I don’t have much territory to speak of yet. I snagged an old
house around Seminole Heights but it’s in sore need of
remodeling. Trying to keep that on the discreet side of things
but…the hours.”
It was hard to manage the projects while being indisposed during
the daytime. The house was a work in progress and for right now
the only daylight free place was a larger closet. She was not
waking up her most well-rested self these days.
“Annoyances aside, if you don’t mind sharing some supper I’d be
much obliged,” lack of territory meant fewer feeding options.
Besides, his hedonistic leanings tended to make things a little
more indulgent and interesting. It wasn’t much different than
their previous arrangement anyhow.
Back at the focus of her mysterious orphan, she let out a
chuckle. He should be concerned, he clearly wasn’t. He wanted to
know more, as did she but she was really unsure of how to go
about things formally. Maybe an informal approach would be the
more interesting option anyhow. Better to beg forgiveness than
ask for permission. It wouldn’t be completely unexpected of her
clan.
“Then I can’t wait to share the details later, there’s a lot of
potential. Oh c’mon, I wouldn’t mind a few babies, they’re
adorable with their posturing and acting like they have
something to prove. It’s almost horrifying to think that we were
like that once too. Maybe worse.”
*****************************************************