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#Post#: 1093--------------------------------------------------
OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: Jenn B. Date: April 13, 2025, 9:47 am
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Elysium: Tampa Museum of Art
[float=right
max=45%]
HTML https://alchetron.com/cdn/tampa-museum-of-art-2c3e15b7-7d72-49fa-ad08-20f0c70a458-resize-750.jpeg[/float]
[hr]
The Tampa Museum of Art lights up Tampa's bustling downtown
corridor: a modern, rectangular building illuminated in
brilliant violet and magenta lights. A repository of art and
treasure, a center of culture in the city. The gallery features
exhibits that range from artifacts of the ancient world to
modern displays with light and color and projection. [br]
A perfect place for the society of the Damned to meet and mingle
with each other.[br]
Tonight, the museum is open late for a regular private event -
Prince Angelique's Elysium, where the Kindred of Tampa gather to
socialize and scheme. From lowly neonate to hoary elder, from
loyal stanchion of the Ivory Tower to rebellious Anarch, they
are welcome so long as they abide the Six Traditions and the
intricate rules and social mores that have governed their
society for centuries.[br]
In these uncertain nights, with the tentative ceasefire of the
Sabbat of nearby St. Petersburg hanging tense in the air, it
might be wise for even the most solitary of predators to have a
few allies....
[hr]
((OOC Note: Please join me in an open and leisurely opportunity
for Camarilla networking in Tampa. Let's scheme with and
potentially against each other as friends! I will be posting in
two characters for the evening for the same.[br]
If you were thinking about developing a Camarilla Kindred for
the setting, maybe this is a good chance to playtest a little as
well!))
[br]The Tampa Museum of Art's website
HTML https://tampamuseum.org/
has information on current exhibits in
the real world if you wish to incorporate them!
#Post#: 1094--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: MAT Date: April 13, 2025, 2:14 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/abel9.png[/float]
those boon times went bust
my feet of clay, they dried to dust
the red isn't the red we painted
its just rust
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
Exhibit: The Etruscans - A Mysterious Italian People
HTML https://tampamuseum.org/the-etruscans-a-mysterious-italian-people/
Another night, another trip to the museum to look at art.
Play-acting as a Toreador never really got boring for Rudy.
Evading his own identity was a compulsion he couldn’t resist -
someone should do a study, calling Dr. Netchurch! But more than
that, with this particular role there was almost no way to do it
wrong. Pretending to be a scholar of art was as valid as
actually possessing scholarly knowledge of art. Mistakes were
little imperfections that just made it feel more real. Posing as
a poseur was sometimes actually more valuable because it was so
believable. How many foppish, pretentious aesthetes populated
the clan of the Rose?
Too fuckin’ many to count.
Nature abhorred a vacuum, and when presented with the empty
canvas generated by a dilettante, others tended to paint their
own thoughts and feelings onto it. In a sense, it was like
becoming a mirror; since there was nothing real of the
personality to reflect, what it reflected back instead was what
the other person wanted to see. Kindred often had deep-seated
needs to dominate and feel strong, so the vacuous mirror created
plenty of opportunities to give them that.
This evening, he was enjoying an exhibit on the Etruscans. His
ensemble presented as steetwear aristocrat: an oversized white
hoodie with an abstract print, tailored black cargo pants, black
matte leather combat boots, and a long black wool trench coat.
Affectation from top to bottom.
He was standing in front of a terracotta sculpture, a bust of a
young woman adorned as a maenad. Here he was, a man of unknown
identity, exploring art of a little-known people, looking at the
representation of a follower of Dionysus, whilst sipping from a
little glass bottle filled with liquid believed to be created by
the god of the same name. Theatrical synergy, thy name is
Rudolph!
The self-satisfied smile that crossed his face indicated to any
onlookers that he was already enjoying his evening.
#Post#: 1096--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: Jenn B. Date: April 13, 2025, 8:17 pm
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Geoffrey Wodeward
[float=right
max=45%][img]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/8deb3d78-e3fd-4c5c-baf9-c72705ec7da4.png?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=image[/img][/float]
[br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]To all things housed in her
silence[/font][br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Nature offers a violence[/font][br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif][/font]
[hr]
"Oh, hell." A voice spoke up from behind Abel from a respectable
number of paces away. "Look who it is." [br]
You had to make your own nights enjoyable or the weight of them
would crush you. Large things or small. When he'd chanced on a
familiar face in an unfamiliar city here tonight, he'd first
ducked behind a glass display case to hide his approach. Moved
as quietly as possible through the ancient artifacts on display
until he was directly behind the Toreador.[br]
Close enough to speak. A lightness in his tone that suggested he
wasn't being at all serious.[br]
The Gangrel had pulled his hair back for the occasion, out of
the face. The shirt tucked into his dark wash jeans was just a
touch archaic; laces at the turned up collar, gathered at the
cuff. The pair of silver medallions, one round and one
oval-shaped at the collar matched it well enough. [br]
The Tag Heuer dive watch around his wrist sure didn't.
#Post#: 1098--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: Mother_Hydra Date: April 14, 2025, 7:36 pm
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[center]Sergine “Serge” Carlock
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zx7znWsuHUgka3eB-B7hqAoFLAUOkxI6xpa0kLJcrr0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]This little war of mine.[/center]
[center][I]Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes| Strength 4 :
Viscous| New Arrival| Rep [/center]
[float=right
max=45%][img]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/72c76bf3-8d50-4d17-bd8a-f618f976c7b9.jpg?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=image][/img][/float]
[hr]
Sergine was feeling pretty good the last few nights, success
always brought the Brujah's better angels to the fore, making
her more sociable and outgoing...at least so far as one might
consider the scarred vampire outgoing. So they had decided that
tonight, they would partake of the Elysium and what it had to
offer, given the last time they had been present they had spent
a total of five minutes within its confines, their
agenda....significantly different then it was now.
Tonight they are in their usual uniform, at least when dealing
with high society. They worse a decent suit in charcoal black,
the vest, the shirt, and the tie were also black in varying
shades creating a severe look that also showed a certain level
of awareness of appearances, even when much of his face was
covered in scar tissue.
They had been relaxing on the second floor, staring out at the
art installation that hung suspended from the ceiling. They had
stood there, their bored looking eyes watching the multi
coloured disks shift in the climate control created currents.
Eventually though, they had moved away from this installation,
moving quietly through the space as they surveyed those around
them.
Eventually, they had come to the Etruscan exhibit, and while
they might have simply wandered past they did spy a vampire they
knew. He considered her options for a few seconds, before
shifting their trajectory towards the two men who were talking.
#Post#: 1099--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: MAT Date: April 15, 2025, 12:09 am
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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/abel9.png[/float]
those boon times went bust
my feet of clay, they dried to dust
the red isn't the red we painted
its just rust
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
Exhibit: The Etruscans - A Mysterious Italian People
HTML https://tampamuseum.org/the-etruscans-a-mysterious-italian-people/
Abel was mid-sip when the voice spoke up from behind him.
Despite the fact that he knew others were around, he hadn’t
noticed the other man’s approach. He almost spilled his drink.
Turning, he stared for just a second, but then laughed when he
recognized the figure. “Hell has nothing to do with it, despite
all evidence to the contrary.”
With his free hand, he reached out to grasp Geoffrey's, and gave
it a brisk brief shake. Civility to keep the beast at bay.
“This is the part where you say, ‘it's good to see you’, and I
return with, ‘it's good to be seen’,” he said with a grin,
squinting slightly and running a hand over his closely-shorn
scalp.
“You're not here to deliver more torture p orn, I hope. If so,
please return to sender.” A casual joke to reference their first
meeting. Throwing crass humor at genuine trauma, as if to
defiantly deny it any purchase.
He followed that with a reference to the last time he'd seen the
man, making an exaggerated glance behind the Gangrel. “No
lupines nipping at your heels, either…?”
Abel opened one side of his trenchcoat like a stereotypical
street-seller of stolen goods. Or flasher. “It's a bit dry in
here tonight." The interior pocket held a line of small bottles
sticking out just past the lining. "Thirsty?” he asked,
waggling his eyebrows and chuckling. Then he snatched one of the
bottles and held it out; a mini-bar sized glass vessel
containing an amber liquid.
His emerald gaze flicked to the approaching figure. “You seem to
have brought a plus-one to this impromptu party. Maybe I should
set up a bar.”
#Post#: 1100--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: VAP0RSPAC3 Date: April 15, 2025, 9:45 am
---------------------------------------------------------
[float=right max=45%][img
width=300]
HTML https://dicehaus.com/uimg/VAP0RPAC3/cowboy.jpg[/img][/float]
[left]"You can hear my new Ford roadster, you can take my
hard-boiled hat[br]
But you can never take from me my silver-mounted gat."[/left]
[center]Travis J. Calloway
HTML https://drive.google.com/file/d/1hOecVMRohnzoGAugirODRhzVKaQxUXcK/view<br
/>: Black Cat[/center]
[center]Gangrel Ancilla - Permanent Fangs - New Arrival[/center]
[left]"The hold-up men don't hold me, they sure leave me be[br]
I′m a pistol packin' papa and I ramble where I
please"[/left]
[center]App:2 | Cha:3 | BP: 15/15 | WP: 6/6[/center]
[hr]
Travis J. Calloway. Black Cat Calloway. Black Cat. Or... juss
plain ole Travis. - The Gangrel with the cat-like eyes and the
permanent fangs.
Ole Black Cat Calloway may or may not have worn out his welcome
out west, and after spending a few months going quite literally
to ground, he was ready to try his luck back east. He was known
to travel 'round, but typically hung his hat in Texas, Oklahoma,
or Arizona. Tampa Florida had been on his radar for some time,
but he always found a reason to go somewhere else. - Now he was
dusting the dirt of his boots and making a rare appearance at
Elysium, if anything to make his presence known and rub elbows
with other Kindred for a change. It was kinda nice to socialize
on neutral ground, even if it put him on alert not being armed.
Travis traveled fairly light considering he hitched his horse
trailer to his mustang and drove to Tampa with not much else
'cept the clothes on his back and a small assortment of pistols.
He opted to stop at a western wear outlet in Dallas, taking 1-20
east towards Atlanta and hooking south towards Tampa. - He
cleaned up nice; shined his boots up real good, slicked his coal
black hair back, and even took the time to iron his shirt new
button down shirt and black denim pants in the cheap highway
adjacent motel. He put on his favorite bolo tie, the one with
the silver stiletto tipped aiguillettes and the golden honey
hued cats eye gem.
He would, however, still opt to tie a simple black bandana
around the lower portion of his face to obscure his fangs when
he spoke, lest he be accused of breaking The Masquerade. Sure,
he was probably as Independent as they came, but it's always a
good idea to play nice with the Camarilla, and The Masquerade in
general was put in place for a reason. Black Cat respected that.
- He does remove his hat when he enters, out of habit more than
anything. He carries it with him by the crown, at his side, with
the inner lining towards him. That there is juss standard hat
etiquette, and despite his rather modern ways, some traditions
persist.
Travis meanders 'round the museum, feigning only a passing
interest at any of the exhibits. He was new in town, and anyone
who might know him from his past would recognize him instantly
from his cat-like eyes; one of the more prominent of his
animalistic features. The fangs, not a result of his lineage,
but cat-like in their own way. His eyes might be peculiar to
some, but it didn't mark him as Vampire quite as obviously as
the hole pokers in his mouth. Sure, he could have done the quiet
loner thing and just not opened his mouth, or positioned himself
with his back to onlookers and/or cameras and used his hat to
obscure his mouth when he talked... but that was a whole mess of
work, and he could do the bandana thing and be done with it. In
modern nights, people were covering their face in public for one
reason or another, so at least he looked like less of a bank
robber in 21st Century than he in did in the 19th Century, when
he was a bank robber.
#Post#: 1101--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: Jenn B. Date: April 15, 2025, 1:48 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Geoffrey Wodeward
[float=right
max=45%][img]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/c0885f09-5d09-426b-8312-77b688531fa9.png?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=imagerotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=imagee[/img][/float]
[br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]To all things housed in her
silence[/font][br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Nature offers a violence[/font][br]
[font=Arial, sans-serif][/font]
[hr]
Geoffrey shook Abel's hand easily. Cordially. It had been some
years since he'd seen the Toreador, but that was hardly a cause
of comment. Sometimes it was months and years with the familiar
face. Being on the move meant not being trapped in a city with
the same Kindred all the time, but it also meant not being
stable in a city with the same Kindred, all the time. [br]
"It is good to see you." He followed the prompt, but sincerely.
"When you stopped calling, I was a little concerned they may
had had gotten you." The Lupines, that was. He took a glance
behind him as well as if similarly checking.[br]
He even looked at the reflective surface of the nearest glass
display case. It was there he caught the reflection of the man
with his face half covered, carrying a hat under his arm. He
watched him a moment with a pair of amber-colored eyes,
wolflike. Following the movement rather than any particular
detail [br]
If he could get Travis' attention, he'd offer an invitation up
with a silent inclination of his head.[br]
He looked back just in time for Abel to open his coat. His
expression perking up a touch as the sight of what he'd smuggled
in. A sly touch of a smile turned up one corner of his mouth. He
accepted the mini bottle deftly, hand not lifting too much,
half-concealing it in his fingers.[br]
"Ah, if there's one thing you can be depended on, it's to make a
night more lively." before he could open it, his attention got
diverted to the scarred figure approaching them. One he, too,
recognized.[br]
"Sergine." A hand got offered to the Brujah in kind. "Good to
see you. Whose throat are we after tonight?"
Be 'we', of course, he just meant 'them' in the singular.
Nobody, he assumed from their last conversation about
reputations and the way they could bind you. Or maybe somebody,
which could be just as exciting.[br]
Either way, their parting had been amicable enough that he felt
confident in ribbing them about it. Just a little.
#Post#: 1102--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: calliamity Date: April 15, 2025, 2:42 pm
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[float=right max=45%]
HTML https://i.imgur.com/H0Rsyl4.png[/float]
[center]Dio
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLfyZE77Tq4[/center]
[center]Well, the bottom of a river, that's no place for a
man[BR]Especially one as well dressed as you, can I help you
understand?[/center]
[center]Anarch | Baron of Clearwater | NPC[/center][hr]
[BR]
Even for an ostensible enemy of the state, it pays to check in
on things now and again. Put in some face and remind them that
she's still out there, the Camarilla's loud neighbor. Just
outside the HOA and playing garage metal at all hours. Nobody to
call about the unmowed lawn with the empty bottles, the scent of
cannabis wafting from the backyard. The barbecue parties that go
all the way from dusk 'til dawn.[BR][BR]As a squad, they roll in
five deep from a late-model black sedan escorted by a pair of
crotch rockets. The hangers-on alternate but they're always folk
who are good at fighting but ultimately not mission-critical.
Expendable. And it's the same size as Brighton's posse on
purpose, a sort of funhouse mirror alternate reality of what
they could be. What they should be.[BR][BR]Hell, that's why
she'd brought along a defector, just to rub it in the Sheriff's
face.[BR][BR]So, three Brujah, a Caitiff and an especially
jacked Banu Haqim walk into a [s]bar[/s] museum. They're all
dressed in black, no layers, jeans and t-shirts or tank tops,
their leader no different. No weapons, visibly nowhere to
conceal anything substantial enough to jack up a Kindred.
Ultimately meaningless considering the powers at hand but it's a
conspicuous display that they're complying with the rules. Not
here to start anything. Even though they kinda are, and everyone
knows it.[BR][BR]Typical reaction is for the chatter to die down
when they roll in, all eyes on. Once that awkward silence passes
they break up, buddy system time. The Caitiff's minded by
Brighton's ex-enforcer - he's got enough juice, somehow, to
light fires so of all the expendables he's kind of the MVP
tonight for if The Worm Turns. Dio rolls solo, stride fearless,
chin held high. Sheer momentum carries her to the Etruscan
exhibit, which she pretends to view, rubbing thoughtfully at her
chin. Transparently, though, she's eavesdropping on the
conversation happening a few feet away.
#Post#: 1103--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: Mother_Hydra Date: April 15, 2025, 3:15 pm
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center]Sergine “Serge” Carlock
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zx7znWsuHUgka3eB-B7hqAoFLAUOkxI6xpa0kLJcrr0/edit?usp=sharing[/center]
[center]This little war of mine.[/center]
[center][I]Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes| Strength 4 :
Viscous| New Arrival| Rep [/center]
[float=right
max=45%][img]
HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/72c76bf3-8d50-4d17-bd8a-f618f976c7b9.jpg?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=image][/img][/float]
[hr]
The Brujah moved with intentional slowness, in a place like
Elysium reputation meant a great deal, and sometimes even
talking to someone might imply the wrong, or right thing.
Sergine was a new face in the cities immortal circles which
allowed for a certain level of anonymity. This however was
balanced by the fact that the scarred warrior carried with them
a certain rep, the sort that might make others uncomfortable,
wary even.
She only commits when Geoffrey calls out to him, the angle they
had been taking through the space shifting to take them more
directly towards the two men. His chin rises in greeting as she
drew closer, one scarred hand rising to mirror the gangrels own.
“Geoffrey, no one tonight…so far.” The Brujah voice is as
scarred as their features. Sounding like someone had opened up
their throat to allow flame to dance along their vocal chords
before sealing them back up. It was Smokey and craggy. As they
reached the duo their eyes briefly surveyed the pair, tracking
over them before sweeping the rest of the room.
“The road has yet to call you back hmm?”
Their features seemed to hold a placid, some might say, bored
cast in general. Slowly the face turns to Abel, what might have
once been an attractive face now covered in scars of all kinds
as a nod was offered to the Toreador.
“Sergine Carlock.”
#Post#: 1104--------------------------------------------------
Re: OPEN VTM SCENE: Elysium Night
By: MAT Date: April 15, 2025, 8:32 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/abel9.png[/float]
those boon times went bust
my feet of clay, they dried to dust
the red isn't the red we painted
its just rust
[font=Arial, sans-serif]Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health |
Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura [/font]
[hr]
“Well, I’m a hot commodity wherever I go,” he replied to
Geoffrey facetiously, blowing on his knuckles and rubbing them
on the chest of his hoodie. “It was a safe bet on your part,
anyhow - there’s usually someone out to get me. It’s not usually
werewolves.” Usually it was his own sire.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice to just above a stage
whisper; intentional but theatrical. “No one’s quite finished
the job, yet. Whether it’s a product of an overestimation of
their capability or an underestimation of my determination to
survive…who can say? Maybe they just get bored.”
He turned his attention to Sergine, and offered his hand to them
in greeting as well. “Good evening. Abel Beaumarchais, clan of
the Rose,” he introduced himself with a smile. On the surface,
he and Sergine seemed an exercise in contrasts. Where their
voice was smokey and craggy, his was smooth as silk. Where they
were covered by scars, he looked immaculately polished. “Can I
offer you something to drink?” he asked, gesturing to his coat.
“It’s a beer specially-formulated for the Kindred digestive
system. As Geoffrey can attest, I’m sure.”
Then Abel’s emerald, vaguely serpentine gaze flicked Dio’s way.
He was the type of person who could appreciate a good entrance.
And who didn’t love an agitator? Anarchs were so much fun. “No
need to lurk,” he said to her. “This is a safe space,” he joked
dryly. "At least, I hope so," he added with a wink.
He wanted to grin like a cheshire cat, but instead looked back
to Geoffrey with only mild amusement. “Are you still based out
of Chicago? If you’re sticking around, you should come by my new
club. It’s out past Town & Country. I have some work you might
be interested in.”
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