World of Darkness: Master Thread (Always Open)

[Kaziimar]

Gonna be quite the funny convo with Louis and Azazel if it's ever had in depth.

Azazel was in France some time after the revolution and resided there in his back story.

Ooh, and it was this Louis’ great-great-great grandson that got beheaded.

[Acerbez]

NationStates Name: Acerbez
Character Name: 呂神花 (Lu Shenhua)

Physical Appearance and Description:
Shenhua has long black silk hair that goes just past her buttocks with bangs covering her right eye. Typically she wears a blood Rose Chinese cheongsam that shows both of her legs, along with a white jacket. Despite her back being adorned fully with traditional Chinese tattoo depictions of a warrior slashing a serpent halberd and white tiger, , her arm is sleeved with western stylized Asian art, along with her right side of the neck. The left side behind her ear also is tattood with the Chinese characters "国王的克星", Guowang de Kexing, meaning The Bane of Kings.

Demeanor: Temperamental
Master: Zhi Kai (Deceased) She now adheres to the Yama King, The Wandering Overlord.
Generation: N/a
Blood Potency: N/a
Clan: Akuma (Yin Kuei-Jin)
Dharma: Previously Searing Wind (Howl of the Devil Tiger) now self proclaimed practitioner of "Way of 10,000 Screams"
Age: 187
Birthdate: Feb 7

Physical
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 2
Stamina: 3

Social
Charisma: 5
Manipulation: 1

Knowledge
Perception: 2
Intelligence: 1
Wit: 3

Abilities
Melee: 2
Ranged/Firearms: 1
Disciplines:
Ghostflame Shintai- 1
Demon Shintai- 2
Black wind Shintai- 1
Iron Mountain Shintai- 1

Additional Skills: Only proficient in the Art of War and beautifying her brutality.

Biographical Information

The story of Shenhua is a peculiar one cast in boundless love. Her ancestry ancient and much older than the shell it resides within, The mandated heavens having record of her bloodlines first live's as far back as 199A.D.

The irony of her lineage is that its relations always seem to refuse to grow beyond their karmic debts and collectively make the same mistake time and time again. Thus thrusting their lineage back into poetically similar cycles as the predecessor before it. More modernly known, the first of the lineage is commonly known as the shrouded story of "Lubu", a fierce warrior blessed with martial prowess and heavenly favor only to squander it on his own accord through unexplainable actions, betrayals, and pursuit of the same spirit it has loved even since then.

Time and time again, the Lu bloodline inheritors manifest their being and work themselves to renown status among their mortal or immortal peers and become a force of nature. Through the passages of time, completely unaware of their constant curse of love. Largely impart of Lubu's own transgressions against the mandate of heaven, fate seems to enact its testament time and time again upon his ilk- as punishment for his misdeeds, they pay his price. Just as Lubu committed treason in the name of his love, Diao Chan, so too are his kin privy to such recklessness in their task and duties when weighted on the scales against love.

The time span between these congregations is always speculative and random, at times taking a century or more to reveal itself to the progeny of Lu. Each and every life, a trail of death and destruction follow as kin disavow their responsibilities and karma in order to pursue the love they invest in and so desperately crave.

Much to the Lu ancestry's dismay however, fate always has seen to it that their relationship is always cursed to die shortly after its begun and bears no trait of longevity. Robbing the Lu of their opportunity to live out long and peaceful lives. Supplementing the fact that each and every time by the offspring is left orphaned and without guidance impart of the death or misfortune caused by its predecessor. Again, every Lu has fallen into a blind self-destructive rage that continues on until their certain death, largely impart of the slighted hosts they've met or encountered in their tenure of life; broken oaths, betrayals, or outright perjuries being the cause.

The wheel of fate had unanimously always placed Lu's within a male shell, the typical calculation of balancing their lineage's exceptional yin charged essence with a yang (male) counterpart and saw to it that their life partners would be stark opposite. However in the pre-modern year of 1831, what was seen as a mercy of the August personage who had repeatedly watch its Lu subjects repeat the same misdeeds time and time again,
and fall victim to the Yama Kings as a prize earned in cruel jest, it was decided a change may need to occur in order for the wayward lineage to realize its mistakes and transcend.

Instead of being born male and in balance with its yang counter part as its usual shell, The yin spirit essence of the next Lu in line for birth and duty was cast within a female as an unorthodox solution to determine whether or not their tangent desire for a counterpart could be abaited and ultimately rectify their trajectory. This proved to be a grave mistake on both accounts of the August personage and Lu bloodline's very existence.

Past lives saw that Lu's were always born a wandering nomad with no place to call home. Initially this was Wuyuan in its first life as Lubu. Residing in Yomi, Lubu was forced to observe his ilk be born Mongol, then Hejia, and even Manchu. Each time committing the same mistake as he and forced to serve sentences in Yomi, The Yama Kings tormenting him with their destruction upon their arrival. Finally, in 1831 Shenhua was born and taken for by a migrating Uighur family that had found its way to the south China Delta and found its home in the Colony of Hong Kong. Ironically named this orphaned child Shenhua, or "The blossom of heaven". Giving this name to evade their roots and conform to the changing culture of the middle kingdom.

Dying at the age of 27 by the hands of an opium addict, Shenhua was given her second breath and spent more than half of her new unlife as a devout follow of its P'o virtue and inducted as a devil tiger to hone in its
Identifiable Lower spirit in hopes to ascend to a point in which her higher spirit would begin to gain sustenance. Her brutality was given the face of beauty more so than ever now in a double positive Yin. Granted multiple theatres to cultivate her skills in the turbulent Qing dynasty and its uprisings, the colonial opium wars in which Western kindred attempted to penetrate the middle kingdom, the plethora of rebellions and revolutions, and of course the inevitable industrialization and warzone Hong Kong evolved into in the modern years only to see it calm briefly.

Finally when hiroshima dropped upon the imperial Japanese and gave birth to the scorpions, Shenhua to was faced with the long awaited ultimatum. Her spiritual love had appeared around the 1940's and beckoned Shenhua like a moth to a flame. This time however, her opposite was born double positive Yang. Frail and fragile in all its qualities, the only indication of this attraction was Shenhua's infatuation and the magnetism the man had bewitched her with.

Her calling to the Devil tiger granted no space for this relationship and demanded her dealings cease immediately. Despite her station and the great service she carried out without fail, everything was put into question as she began to become unsubordinate and rebel from the depths of her very soul. In a benign and physical sense, one would say she was driven regarding the matter. However at the spiritual level, her double positive Yin energy was destroying the very fabric of its restraints and insisted she go about her way entirely disregarding those that attempted to reign over her. Again repeating her past life transgressions.

It was when she divulged her secret of society to this would be lover that all consequences and repercussions would come to bear. The Devil tiger being the difinitive sadomasochist element of the path of enlightenment didn't bring punishment to her herself, but upon the very man she came to love infinitely for reasons unknown to her.

Killed publicly for all within the wu circle to see, that no matter the station or renown a disciple was, and cited as sentenced punishment for her transgression, Shenhua's essence imploded with the grief of the many lifetimes of her love's death.

This grief echoed in her thoughts and seeped from her very being and expressed itself as unbridled rage as she tore the members of her sect apart and cut them down before fleeing. Hong Kong began to run rife with chaos as Kuei Jin sects attacked one another at the mis interpreted assault and only realized after that Shenhua's betrayal was unilateral in action. As the hunt began, it was discovered in her grief she had made the brashest of decisions and dealt with the very devil itself.

Being a devil tiger and dabbling with as well as dancing with corrupt chi, Fenghua had performed ritual of the black peony and negotiated in terms of soul commerce after making contact with her tormented family head Lubu. A development that evolved from other banes that made her company having shared her ancestry with her. Further enraged at the notion that the Lu family had suffered such a curse for aeons already, she made a unilateral decision on behalf of all her ancestors. Offering a portion of her very soul for the knowledge to bring ultimate pain and destruction to those that humiliated and robbed them. Perhaps the one thing saving her from offering her soul's entirety is the fact that it doesn't entirely belong to her as it is longs for its opposite and cannot be averted from this.

The wandering overlord, interested only in her spirits desire for wanton destruction obliged her and reintroduced the mislead devil tiger to its origins in the path of ten thousand screams and left her to wander as he did.

Ever since then, Shenhua has been a blight to the Kuei-Jin and always found herself among those that revel in the obliteration and destruction of their pompous enemies. After fleeing Hong Kong, she has found a somewhat uneasy alliance and sanctuary with the Sabbat. An organization that neither understands her demeanor or cares to... So long as she maintains her usefulness in their wars against the Camarilla and beyond... Even at times serving as a mediator between wyrm and sabbat congregations.

[Konolas]

I have a question.
Do I need to know something before I join?

[Morrdh]

I have a question.
Do I need to know something before I join?

Some knowledge of the World of Darkness setting would be useful, beyond that it depends whether you're going for a vampire, werewolf, mage, etc as there is general information that is important for those.

Best place is here; https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Porta ... f_Darkness

Though, by all means, ask questions.

[Targovish]

Mage
NationStates Name: Targovish
Character Name: Ludwig Stratus von Strauss
Age: 98, looks 30
Birthdate: will get back to this)
Physical Appearance and Description: Blonde hair, one blue eye and one red eyes a scar coming across his neck as though his throat at one point was slit. He stands at roughly around five foot eight inches. Medium physical build with hair swayed to one side as to cover his right eyes.
Demeanor: Pshycotic and easily excitable
Affiliated Watchtower: Watchtower of the lead coin
Paths: Death and Matter Dominante, inferior spirit
Cabal Alignment: Moros

Physical
(three points to start out with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Athleticism:0
Melee:0
Ranged/Firearm:1
Senses/Initiative:2

Mental & Social 
(Start out with four points with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 1
Leadership: 1

Abilities

Gnosis: 2 Death and Matter arcana
Mage Sight: 1
Wisdom: 1
Hubris: 0

Paradox Modifier: 0

Attainments: counterspell- the ability to nullify another casters spell should his will prove stronger.
Targeted summon- able to summon a single specific supernatural entity- a Aperion to be specific
Legacies: Tremere liches- often simply referred to as the Tremere, are a left-handed legacy of the Moros that originated with a line of vampires. They are simultaneously a legacy of Reapers and liches , with their ideology claiming the latter as a way to assist the former.

In essence destroying the soul and using it as a way to extend ones life and knowledge. By allowing his soul to be sundered and replaced Ludwig has bound his fate to the tremere, in exchange for dark knowledge

Biographical Information:
Ludwig Strauss was born in the town of Stuttgart Germany. In the year 1920, he would spend his young years learning of the sciences of creation. Most importantly what fascinated him, was what it would take to make a human life. The components the chemicals, at the age of 16 he would go on to join the ever growing socialist party in Germany. Even being allowed an apprenticeship as a lab assistant despite his abnormality. He was a bright mind and to some of his would be test subjects, more crule then the usual doctors. It would be here he would awaken in 1943 after having rendered the very soul from one of his candidates. This was the final peice of his puzzle he was missing. The final component in making a real tangable life, it would also be that during this time he would be approached by the tremere.

Despite being a young awakened, the boy would grow eager to learn and struck a bargain. His soul for protection and knowledge from his vampire masters. A body cannot live without a soul however, and as he gave his he would take the soul of his closest friend. A friend he has long since forgotten. With the vampires influence he managed to escape to the west, following the collapse of nazi Germany. He would dissaper into the masses for study and to slowly hunt more souls as a reaper to this day. Having faked his death several times and taken many a new name. He has finally grown tired of being on the run, he plans to reach out with his dark knowledge here in the city of angels, curious who will bite for his services.

[Imperialisium]

Mage
NationStates Name: Targovish
Character Name: Ludwig Stratus von Strauss
Age: 98, looks 30
Birthdate: will get back to this)
Physical Appearance and Description: Blonde hair, one blue eye and one red eyes a scar coming across his neck as though his throat at one point was slit. He stands at roughly around five foot eight inches. Medium physical build with hair swayed to one side as to cover his right eyes.
Demeanor: Pshycotic and easily excitable
Affiliated Watchtower: Watchtower of the lead coin
Paths: Death and Matter Dominante, inferior spirit
Cabal Alignment: Moros

Physical
(three points to start out with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Athleticism:0
Melee:0
Ranged/Firearm:1
Senses/Initiative:2

Mental & Social 
(Start out with four points with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 1
Leadership: 1

Abilities

Gnosis: 2 Death and Matter arcana
Mage Sight: 1
Wisdom: 1
Hubris: 0

Paradox Modifier: 0

Attainments: counterspell- the ability to nullify another casters spell should his will prove stronger.
Targeted summon- able to summon a single specific supernatural entity- a Aperion to be specific
Legacies: Tremere liches- often simply referred to as the Tremere, are a left-handed legacy of the Moros that originated with a line of vampires. They are simultaneously a legacy of Reapers and liches , with their ideology claiming the latter as a way to assist the former.

In essence destroying the soul and using it as a way to extend ones life and knowledge. By allowing his soul to be sundered and replaced Ludwig has bound his fate to the tremere, in exchange for dark knowledge

Biographical Information:
Ludwig Strauss was born in the town of Stuttgart Germany. In the year 1920, he would spend his young years learning of the sciences of creation. Most importantly what fascinated him, was what it would take to make a human life. The components the chemicals, at the age of 16 he would go on to join the ever growing socialist party in Germany. Even being allowed an apprenticeship as a lab assistant despite his abnormality. He was a bright mind and to some of his would be test subjects, more crule then the usual doctors. It would be here he would awaken in 1943 after having rendered the very soul from one of his candidates. This was the final peice of his puzzle he was missing. The final component in making a real tangable life, it would also be that during this time he would be approached by the tremere.

Despite being a young awakened, the boy would grow eager to learn and struck a bargain. His soul for protection and knowledge from his vampire masters. A body cannot live without a soul however, and as he gave his he would take the soul of his closest friend. A friend he has long since forgotten. With the vampires influence he managed to escape to the west, following the collapse of nazi Germany. He would dissaper into the masses for study and to slowly hunt more souls as a reaper to this day. Having faked his death several times and taken many a new name. He has finally grown tired of being on the run, he plans to reach out with his dark knowledge here in the city of angels, curious who will bite for his services.

Accepted

[Finsternia]

For Venetian Nights!

Changeling
NationStates Name: Finsternia
Character Name: Lucciola
Physical Appearance and Description:

Age and Time of Abduction: 13, 1472
Current Age: 14
Demeanor: Meek and Somber
Seeming: Darkling
Kith: Gravewight
Affiliation: Winter Court
Entitlement: None currently
Contracts:

• Contracts of Darkness
• Contracts of Shade and Spirit
• Contracts of the Elements
• Contracts of Dreams

Pledges: A Pledge to the Winter Court
Skills and Abilities
Agility: 1
Intelligence: 2
Perception: 3
Glamour Rating: 5
Clarity: 6
Biographical Information
Stories of boogeymen, child snatchers, and kidnappers fill the rich libraries of literature all around the globe. Many are telltale myths that parents and elders scare their children with into coming back home before the sun sets. Many tales speak of horned monsters who drag children into forests, or malformed shadowy beasts that prowl the dark, waiting for a delectable treat to pass by inconspicuous bushes.

The Black Forest of Germany is one of the places where rumored feisty goblins, dreadful evil beasts, and sorcerous witches linger. Villages still are erected around its perimeters and into the mountains; after all, humans will forever adapt to any environment when the desire to live is burning bright. Such tales of monsters and witchcraft are told by parents to their children to keep them from wandering off into the depths of the forest and becoming lost on their own. Even still, children are a curious bunch who will do as they please. The trees and foliage of the forest are great places to play hide and seek, and to play adventure like knights who desire to venture for glory. Such was a tale of a nameless boy who wandered off into the woods with his playmates for a game of hide and seek, only to be left alone.

The sun is setting down and the shafts of light that peek through the dense leaves and forest cover slowly dim. The boy has gone lost from the forest path, and is aimlessly walking through trees that seem familiar to him but yet not. He called out to his friends and even screamed, only gaining the attention of roosting birds that flew away from shock. The light from the sun has fully been extinguished and rays of moonlight reigned above the clouds yet the boy couldn't find his way home. Fog snaked down below his ankles as the chill of night followed the dark, as well as the sound of the howling of wolves. The boy ran as fast as he can, trying to hasten his search, until he found little fireflies in the air. They light up the dark forest and seemingly showing a path for him to follow. Enchanted, the boy followed the dazzling path of glowing critters until he found a soft glowing light by the end of the firefly trail. There is a shrouded figure sitting on top of a rotting tree stump, with a ring of phosphorescent mushrooms by their feet. Upon their lap is an iron wrought lantern with a soft flame of lilac and white light, craddled by wrinkled hands. The figure beckoned for the boy to approach and spoke in the voice of an elderly woman, "I know the path to home... I know the path to your village... I am kind to offer you this lantern to help you find that path... You may keep the lantern if you find the warmth of your hearth... but... if you don't... accompany me here with my fireflies..." The figure's aged hands held the lantern up for the boy and his mud covered hands touched the glass. There is no burning heat, only a welcoming warmth. "If you do not find your home by sunrise... I will be here... waiting..."

With much haste, the boy took off with the ghastly lantern, shedding light upon the murky fog. The misty tendrils scatter before the light, showing him a path to promised salvation. For hours he followed the forest trail, down winding loops and many familiar trees. However, the land of Faerie isn't something fair and easy to traverse. Even if the overlord of the realm granted you hope for escape, it doesn't mean that the light of hope is true. Sometimes, even covered and protected flames go out. Sometimes, no matter how you run, the path is long, the destination is far, and sunrise is coming. Golden spears replaced silver silks, and the ghastly lantern has gone out. The mulchy leaves beneath the boy's feet trembled into a storm, dragging him back to the cloaked crone that gifted him the lantern. The sun is gone, the night reigns eternal, and beneath the hood are eyes that do not hold the same kindness as before. "Welcome back... Since you did not find your way back home... you're lost... just like these many, many fireflies..." Her aged, wrinkled, and bony fingers reached forward. The boy tried to run away but her long, curling nail touched the lantern's glass. The ghastly flame burned once more and erupted out of its confinements, devouring the boy as his screams of pain echoed in the ancient forest. "From now until the end of time... This fire will sustain you... Your shadow will be forever casted from it... Your light will be the guide for wayward fireflies like yourself... You shall haunt these woods... until silver becomes gold..."

For hundreds of years, in the land of Faerie, there stalks a being of shadow and ghostly fire, ever accompanied by spectres of weeping women, bloodied men, and the joyous tramplings of deer and wildlife. Its eyes burn with lilac and white flame, and its hair is a swaying candle flame of the same light. Its body is nothing but solidified whisps of darkness and smoke, and its hands forever clutching a lit lantern of the same fire that burns eternally upon its visage. Sometimes where the Hedge is thin, mortal men would see ethereal lights in the distance, harrying ghosts and manners of specters to its flame. This being, who was once a boy who lost his way through the woods, forgot his name. He forgot what he was once before. He could only remember that he was always like this. He was the guiding light for wayward souls, an eternal haunt within dark woods, and a guiding lantern for the kind old crone. The light above was always silver moonlight. He vaguely remembers that once it was another shade, but he couldn't remember clearly. As he stared at the covered sky and at the shafts of moonlight, he found himself raising the lantern in his hands towards the sky. When the silver moonlight hit the flame within, its light bursts from lilac white into a blazing gold. The light swept away the darkness of night and the gloom of fog, and before him is a massive wall of thorns. The golden fire burns away a portion of it, and the ghosts that always followed him went ahead to hold the wall open, weeping for him to go. As he stared at the darkness beyond the wall, he remembers a path that he once took. With a step he entered the wall of thorns, and the flame shuddered. He only has moments before the golden fire burns away, and could keep him safe. Once again he ran. As he ran, memories of a distant past rushed into him. It was a run for safety and salvation and a feeling of dread and fear rushes down his spine. He must hold onto the lantern or his Keeper will reach forward and claim him again. Many branches closed in, leaving wounds on his body, but he held on. He ran, and he ran, and he ran for that light beyond the tunnel of thorns. With one last step, the lantern burned out and shattered beneath his feet, and he found himself beneath sunlight, upon wet cobblestone streets, torn and wounded... but safe, alive, and free. The local Changelings found him weeping in an alleyway, and has been taken for custody and care. The Court of Winter has welcomed him with open arms, to teach of Changeling matters, and of the curious city of Venice that he has found himself in. He took the name of Lucciola as he learned the native tongue, to remind himself that he was once a fleeing firefly, flying through the dark while blind, until he found sunrise.

[Imperialisium]

For Venetian Nights!

Changeling
NationStates Name: Finsternia
Character Name: Lucciola
Physical Appearance and Description:

(Image)

Age and Time of Abduction: 13, 1472
Current Age: 14
Demeanor: Meek and Somber
Seeming: Darkling
Kith: Gravewight
Affiliation: Winter Court
Entitlement: None currently
Contracts:

• Contracts of Darkness
• Contracts of Shade and Spirit
• Contracts of the Elements
• Contracts of Dreams

Pledges: A Pledge to the Winter Court
Skills and Abilities
Agility: 1
Intelligence: 2
Perception: 3
Glamour Rating: 5
Clarity: 6
Biographical Information
Stories of boogeymen, child snatchers, and kidnappers fill the rich libraries of literature all around the globe. Many are telltale myths that parents and elders scare their children with into coming back home before the sun sets. Many tales speak of horned monsters who drag children into forests, or malformed shadowy beasts that prowl the dark, waiting for a delectable treat to pass by inconspicuous bushes.

The Black Forest of Germany is one of the places where rumored feisty goblins, dreadful evil beasts, and sorcerous witches linger. Villages still are erected around its perimeters and into the mountains; after all, humans will forever adapt to any environment when the desire to live is burning bright. Such tales of monsters and witchcraft are told by parents to their children to keep them from wandering off into the depths of the forest and becoming lost on their own. Even still, children are a curious bunch who will do as they please. The trees and foliage of the forest are great places to play hide and seek, and to play adventure like knights who desire to venture for glory. Such was a tale of a nameless boy who wandered off into the woods with his playmates for a game of hide and seek, only to be left alone.

The sun is setting down and the shafts of light that peek through the dense leaves and forest cover slowly dim. The boy has gone lost from the forest path, and is aimlessly walking through trees that seem familiar to him but yet not. He called out to his friends and even screamed, only gaining the attention of roosting birds that flew away from shock. The light from the sun has fully been extinguished and rays of moonlight reigned above the clouds yet the boy couldn't find his way home. Fog snaked down below his ankles as the chill of night followed the dark, as well as the sound of the howling of wolves. The boy ran as fast as he can, trying to hasten his search, until he found little fireflies in the air. They light up the dark forest and seemingly showing a path for him to follow. Enchanted, the boy followed the dazzling path of glowing critters until he found a soft glowing light by the end of the firefly trail. There is a shrouded figure sitting on top of a rotting tree stump, with a ring of phosphorescent mushrooms by their feet. Upon their lap is an iron wrought lantern with a soft flame of lilac and white light, craddled by wrinkled hands. The figure beckoned for the boy to approach and spoke in the voice of an elderly woman, "I know the path to home... I know the path to your village... I am kind to offer you this lantern to help you find that path... You may keep the lantern if you find the warmth of your hearth... but... if you don't... accompany me here with my fireflies..." The figure's aged hands held the lantern up for the boy and his mud covered hands touched the glass. There is no burning heat, only a welcoming warmth. "If you do not find your home by sunrise... I will be here... waiting..."

With much haste, the boy took off with the ghastly lantern, shedding light upon the murky fog. The misty tendrils scatter before the light, showing him a path to promised salvation. For hours he followed the forest trail, down winding loops and many familiar trees. However, the land of Faerie isn't something fair and easy to traverse. Even if the overlord of the realm granted you hope for escape, it doesn't mean that the light of hope is true. Sometimes, even covered and protected flames go out. Sometimes, no matter how you run, the path is long, the destination is far, and sunrise is coming. Golden spears replaced silver silks, and the ghastly lantern has gone out. The mulchy leaves beneath the boy's feet trembled into a storm, dragging him back to the cloaked crone that gifted him the lantern. The sun is gone, the night reigns eternal, and beneath the hood are eyes that do not hold the same kindness as before. "Welcome back... Since you did not find your way back home... you're lost... just like these many, many fireflies..." Her aged, wrinkled, and bony fingers reached forward. The boy tried to run away but her long, curling nail touched the lantern's glass. The ghastly flame burned once more and erupted out of its confinements, devouring the boy as his screams of pain echoed in the ancient forest. "From now until the end of time... This fire will sustain you... Your shadow will be forever casted from it... Your light will be the guide for wayward fireflies like yourself... You shall haunt these woods... until silver becomes gold..."

For hundreds of years, in the land of Faerie, there stalks a being of shadow and ghostly fire, ever accompanied by spectres of weeping women, bloodied men, and the joyous tramplings of deer and wildlife. Its eyes burn with lilac and white flame, and its hair is a swaying candle flame of the same light. Its body is nothing but solidified whisps of darkness and smoke, and its hands forever clutching a lit lantern of the same fire that burns eternally upon its visage. Sometimes where the Hedge is thin, mortal men would see ethereal lights in the distance, harrying ghosts and manners of specters to its flame. This being, who was once a boy who lost his way through the woods, forgot his name. He forgot what he was once before. He could only remember that he was always like this. He was the guiding light for wayward souls, an eternal haunt within dark woods, and a guiding lantern for the kind old crone. The light above was always silver moonlight. He vaguely remembers that once it was another shade, but he couldn't remember clearly. As he stared at the covered sky and at the shafts of moonlight, he found himself raising the lantern in his hands towards the sky. When the silver moonlight hit the flame within, its light bursts from lilac white into a blazing gold. The light swept away the darkness of night and the gloom of fog, and before him is a massive wall of thorns. The golden fire burns away a portion of it, and the ghosts that always followed him went ahead to hold the wall open, weeping for him to go. As he stared at the darkness beyond the wall, he remembers a path that he once took. With a step he entered the wall of thorns, and the flame shuddered. He only has moments before the golden fire burns away, and could keep him safe. Once again he ran. As he ran, memories of a distant past rushed into him. It was a run for safety and salvation and a feeling of dread and fear rushes down his spine. He must hold onto the lantern or his Keeper will reach forward and claim him again. Many branches closed in, leaving wounds on his body, but he held on. He ran, and he ran, and he ran for that light beyond the tunnel of thorns. With one last step, the lantern burned out and shattered beneath his feet, and he found himself beneath sunlight, upon wet cobblestone streets, torn and wounded... but safe, alive, and free. The local Changelings found him weeping in an alleyway, and has been taken for custody and care. The Court of Winter has welcomed him with open arms, to teach of Changeling matters, and of the curious city of Venice that he has found himself in. He took the name of Lucciola as he learned the native tongue, to remind himself that he was once a fleeing firefly, flying through the dark while blind, until he found sunrise.

Accepted

[Morrdh]

Emerald Hunters
Sealgairí Glasa

Totem: Stallion

Alpha: Connor MacDomhnaill, Ahroun
Beta: Caitlin Donahue, Galliard
Member: ????, Ahroun
Member: ????, Ahroun
Member: ????, Philodox
Member: ????, Theurge
Member: (female), Ahroun
Member: (female), Theurge
Member: Callum 'Cal' McGuire, Ragabash
Omega: Morrigan ‘Morri’ O’Malley, Ragabash

[Galnius]

Well since the other vamp rp I'm in disappeared, I'll apply for this one. Plus masquerade = amazing so expect something in the next 2 days

[Imperialisium]

Well since the other vamp rp I'm in disappeared, I'll apply for this one. Plus masquerade = amazing so expect something in the next 2 days

Welcome

[Galnius]

I cannot find the app.

[Morrdh]

I cannot find the app.

Character app?

Try the first post under the spoiler tags for each race.

[Independent States of Tula]

Hi all, so I remember apping for Midsummer Nights a while back but needing to drop out, though with more free time now I'd love to come back. I see you all moved on to a second and third story arc and I was wondering what's been going on in the world since Midsummer Nights? Any significant changes since then?

[Morrdh]

Hi all, so I remember apping for Midsummer Nights a while back but needing to drop out, though with more free time now I'd love to come back. I see you all moved on to a second and third story arc and I was wondering what's been going on in the world since Midsummer Nights? Any significant changes since then?

Brief summary;

Stuff that has made the in-world news include the FBI getting involved in a shoot-out at one of the hospitals in LA, with a couple of characters being reported as 'persons of interest'.

Day or so later, a top secret military in Michigan got nuked.

Thats a very brief overview, but happy to provide more details if asked.

[Independent States of Tula]

Hi all, so I remember apping for Midsummer Nights a while back but needing to drop out, though with more free time now I'd love to come back. I see you all moved on to a second and third story arc and I was wondering what's been going on in the world since Midsummer Nights? Any significant changes since then?

Brief summary;

Stuff that has made the in-world news include the FBI getting involved in a shoot-out at one of the hospitals in LA, with a couple of characters being reported as 'persons of interest'.

Day or so later, a top secret military in Michigan got nuked.

Thats a very brief overview, but happy to provide more details if asked.

So, I’m working on my app but as I’ve been reading, a lot seems to be going on in LA just on the first page alone. What are the current situations for all the factions in the city and what’s up with the space stuff?

[Imperialisium]

Brief summary;

Stuff that has made the in-world news include the FBI getting involved in a shoot-out at one of the hospitals in LA, with a couple of characters being reported as 'persons of interest'.

Day or so later, a top secret military in Michigan got nuked.

Thats a very brief overview, but happy to provide more details if asked.

So, I’m working on my app but as I’ve been reading, a lot seems to be going on in LA just on the first page alone. What are the current situations for all the factions in the city and what’s up with the space stuff?

The LA Camarilla is in a three way civil war between the Nosferatu, Brujah, and Gangrel backing a Toreador candidate.

The Changeling faction known as the Autumn Court is surrounding LA because of vivid portents of doom originating within the city and have decided to destroy the city for good measure.

Cult of Belial is in Los Angeles working to further the aims of their Demonic master.

Sabbat has infiltrated the city by Azazels pack and alongside Jonah Slaid who controls Chinatown and some neighboring locales is their main competitor in central zones of LA.

A setite has arrived in the city, current agenda unknown.

Astorias and Simone along with a team of Mages are trying to close a gateway to the Abyss that was created by a magical experiment in a secretive Consilia that had gone wrong decades prior.

Anna whom managed to scavenge a Technocracy ship in the last arc has used it to attack and destroy a secretive Technocracy research station near Saturns rings and retrieve a valuable artifact. Currently on Mars excavating something.

Technocracy is aware of the stations destruction and an ion trail originating in LA from a ship lost decades ago. Is deploying a team to investigate.

Morri has baby fever with Alexei.

Mikhailov has been freed and reunited with Silvanus for better or for worse.

[Independent States of Tula]

Ok, so, I've been dealing with a bit of a block on how to get into the story. So, one last question, for the players in the RP right now, what do you all think you need for the story? I was thinking of doing a vampire again, but what do people need that'll fit storywise?

[Imperialisium]

Ok, so, I've been dealing with a bit of a block on how to get into the story. So, one last question, for the players in the RP right now, what do you all think you need for the story? I was thinking of doing a vampire again, but what do people need that'll fit storywise?

Well Camarilla Archon has arrived to get a handle on the Camarilla Civil War.

Autumn Court has arrived and is going to cut off the city and engineer a disaster to destroy it.

Theres a lot of chaos and anarchy in the LA Supernatural world going on so depends what takes your fancy.

[Luminesa]

Ok, so, I've been dealing with a bit of a block on how to get into the story. So, one last question, for the players in the RP right now, what do you all think you need for the story? I was thinking of doing a vampire again, but what do people need that'll fit storywise?

Well Camarilla Archon has arrived to get a handle on the Camarilla Civil War.

Autumn Court has arrived and is going to cut off the city and engineer a disaster to destroy it.

Theres a lot of chaos and anarchy in the LA Supernatural world going on so depends what takes your fancy.

ALEXEI TO THE RESCUE! AND MORRI. AND CONNOR.

AND JONAH. AND JOHN.

I HOPE.

[Oblivion2]

Here we go... It's Vampire time!

Vampire
NationStates Name: Oblivion2
Character Name: Jean Luc 'Etienne' Saint Francis
Physical Appearance and Description:

Demeanor: Calculating
Sire: Guillermo Torres
Generation: 10th
Blood Potency: 3
Clan: Venture
Bloodline: N/A
Age: 205
Birthdate: May 25th 1812

Physical

Strength: 2
Dexterity: 3
Stamina: 2

Social
Charisma: 3
Manipulation: 3

Knowledge
Perception: 1
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 3

Abilities
Melee: 2
Ranged/Firearms: 1
Disciplines: Dominate 2, Presence 2, Fortitude 1

Additional Skills: Business Acumen, Social Chameleon, Polylingual (English, French, Italian, Spanish).

Biographical Information

The Creature calling itself Étienne Saint Francis was born in a world engulfed by War. Napoleon stood astride the continent like a colossus, his Confederation of the Rhine seemingly unbeatable in the field of battle. On the other side of the world, The United States of America stretched its hand out towards the British Colonies of Upper and Lower Canada, eager to fulfill her Manifest Destiny. Conceived only months before what would be called the War of 1812, Étienne was born in Quebec City to a French-Canadian Militia Officer and a Seamstress.

The War would see the young boy bereft of a Father, leaving his Mother to raise him with the help of Etienne’s maternal grandparents. Growing up clever and determined, Étienne had a knack for finding advantage in almost any situation he found himself in. When the young man made enemies in the schoolyard, he would deflect violence with a clever tongue. Soon he came to understand the ties that bound people together for better or worse. When faced with two sides or unfortunate choices, it wouldn’t be uncommon for Étienne to find a third option, or play one side against the other.

These traits eventually got the young man a position in the Hudson’s Bay Company, where he helped manage trade between the burgeoning colonies and the various Caribbean islands. This naturally led him to his Sire, an Old World Spanish Vampire named Guillermo Torres who Embraced the young Colonial at the age of twenty six.

Taking to unlife rather well, Étienne used his new found immortality to amass a small fortune in material wealth, oft times traveling to various flash points throughout the world in order to make the most of unfolding events via the Ventrue discipline of Domination, and a small network of Ghouls and unwitting mortals. The centuries old Vampire has dabbled in all sorts of businesses over the years; from furs to guns, pharmaceuticals to blood diamonds. Everything he does is calculated to bring himself the most possible gain, even if it means dealing with some of the Camarilla’s and Kindred’s most ardent foes at times. If there is something to be gained, Étienne will almost always be willing to make a deal.

However, despite this seemingly duplicitous nature, the Vampire possesses an innate sense of Honour. Deals will always be upheld to the utmost extent he is capable of. Friends are rare in his line of work, but they are always to be kept close. Ghouls and mortal servants are treated like prized possessions; to be discarded when required, but to be taken care of.

Returning to Los Angeles as recent tensions begin to escalate, Étienne is looking for an opportunity to use the burgeoning chaos to advance himself. Be it within the confines of the Camarilla, or as something else entirely. Having recently acquired and renovated a club in North Hollywood he calls Janus, the Frenchman sits poised to seize any advantage by any and all means.

2nd Character WIP, pending 1st character acceptance.

[Imperialisium]

Étienne is accepted

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Werewolf
NationStates Name: Kingdom of Irhk
Character Name: Connor Alexander Mac Domhnaill
Age: 37
Birthdate: November 1st, 1986
Physical Appearance and Description:
Shaved.
Currently.
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Rahu/Ahroun
Tribe: Fianna
Pack Name: Emerald Hunters
Pack Totem: Stallion
Demeanor: Leader, Aggressive, Protective

Physical

Strength: 4
Dexterity: 2
Speed: 2
Melee: 3
Ranged/Firearm: 1

Knowledge

Perception: 5
Intelligence: 4
Wit: 4

Gifts:

• Balor's Gaze
  
  This Gift emulates the power of one of the Fianna’s legendary enemies. One of the Garou’s eyes glows a livid red color, and all enemies caught in his gaze are stricken with pain. A pain-spirit teaches this Gift.
  
• Fog of War
  
  No matter how disciplined the army and ordered the plan, a battlefield is chaos. Smoke, noise, hidden enemies and fear can all lead to disorganization. Even in the modern age, mistaken identity leads to “friendly fire” casualties. This Gift exacerbates this problem to often devastating effect. A commander might not see advancing foes, or see foes that aren’t there; a team may fire upon allies, or mistake a command to “advance” for a call to “retreat.” This Gift is taught by a raven- or other trickster-spirit.
  
• Howl of the Banshee
  
  The werewolf emits a fearful howl that causes those who hear it to run in terror. A Banshee — a mournful spirit of the dead — teaches this Gift.
  
• Brew
  
  The Fianna are renowned for their ability to drink liquor. Part of this legend stems from their ability to make it. With Brew the Garou can mystically transform a pitcher of any liquid into an alcoholic substance. This Gift can surreptitiously inebriate unsuspecting targets. A grain-spirit, and in some cases a worm-spirit, teaches this Gift.
  
• Pin the Eagle's Wing
  
  Known as Lleu’s Spear by the Welsh Fianna (who claim to have discovered it), a Fianna with this Gift can throw a spear as far as an arrow and sink it deep into its target. Spirited Fianna can even pierce heavy doors or strike a foe on a high rooftop — or pierce a Leech’s putrid heart. Ancestor-spirits teach this Gift.
  
  
• Song of the Dire
  
  The Fianna sings a battle song to empower her comrades as she enters a fray. Driven by their packmate, the embattled Garou double their efforts to defeat the foe. The Black Spiral Dancers have learned to turn tail and flee upon hearing the lyrics of this dread Gift.
  
• Warp Spasm
  
  Many tales of Cuchulain state he would glow in combat, radiating a great heat. At the end of a battle, women would dump water over his body to cool him down. This Gift causes the user to radiate a tremendous heat, igniting nearby flammable items and melting metal. The aura only works while the Fianna is in a berserk frenzy. At the end of the frenzy, the Fianna cools off. This Gift is taught by Fianna ancestor spirits.
  
• Salmon's Leap
  
  The old legends relate of Fianna warriors leaping over enemies and crossing rivers without getting their feet wet; this Gift is one way they did it. Taught by a salmon-spirit or ancestor-spirit, this Gift is functionally identical to the Lupus Gift: Hare’s Leap.[/spoiler]
  
• Woadling
  
  The ancient Celts would paint their skin with woad — the components of which caused a frenzy-like state — before marching off to battle. The Fianna carry on this tradition and take it even further. After painting the woad on their bodies, they can bring the paintings to life to harry an opponent. A stag-spirit can teach this Gift.[/spoiler]
  
• Sense the Unnatural
  
  The werewolf can sense any unnatural presence and determine its approximate strength and type. Supernatural presences can include magic, spirits, the Wyrm, wraiths and vampires, although it won’t pick them out specifically as such. The werewolf may sense a person plagued by hauntings as easily as a ghost. Any spirit servant of Gaia can teach this gift.
  
• Fire in the Belly
  
  Anger and inner turmoil does wonders for creativity. Some Fianna use this principle in new and potentially dangerous ways, directing some of their inner Rage to fuel their creative urges. While the work is more intense, it is also colored by the Rage, reflecting the redirected fury of the Fiann’s soul. “Sublime” and “peaceful” are not words associated with works produced using this Gift. On the other hand, forged weapons take on the new resonance quite readily, attracting War and Rage spirits (-1 difficulty for Rite of the Fetish). Brigid herself teaches this Gift.

Gnosis: 6

Biographical Information

Born at November 1st of 1986, Connor Alexander Mac Domhnaill was brought to the world in Dublin, Ireland, son of Emma and James Mac Domhnaill (with his father being the Garou and his mother being the kinfolk). Much to the likes of his father, Connor was a big kid with a heated head, leading him down to the path of athleticism from a young age: he wrestled and boxed through his teenage years, and grew fond of the fire that emerged hotter and hotter with every conflict.

Guided by his father through his First Change, Connor displayed his Auspice as a warrior, entering a troublesome change that sent him into a frenzy across the Irish fields: the redheaded, somewhat weird boy would soon be sent to the world of the Fianna, his tribe and extended family. Alongside the Grandchildren - and his childhood friend, Derrick - Connor set out to the world, and set many legends under his belt: through three days and three forms he battled a Get of Fenris who challenged him after he slept in the wrong bed, walked alongside the Silent Striders and swam with the Mokolés, and also heard the dark stories of the Uktena.

It was the wanderlust that drove him to form the Emerald Hunters, a traveling pack destined to fight those who served the Wyrm, aiding other fighters when needed, be it with strength or through elaborated schemes. In the year of 2018, the Hunters were sent in their most daring challenge: to establish the Garou in Los Angeles.

It took them many years of pain and suffering - even more for Connor, who lost his closest friend - but no one could dare to say that the Garou weren't present at the city. From the HQ at the docks, they stand and keep pushing, the sights set at them after they survived the near catastrophe of Belial.

Connor took his distance from the pack, allowing Cait to be the de facto Alpha, realizing he would need more time to heal his wounds and more connections within the US. But five years later, it might be time to return to his battlefield.

[Luminesa]

Mage
NationStates Name: Luminesa
Character Name: Ives Holland/Nightingale
Age: 40
Birthdate: April 21st, 1983
Physical Appearance and Description:

Demeanor:

On the surface, Ives is a model Moros. Polite, calm, and muted, he understands well the etiquette that the Masquerade requires. Though he greatly dislikes the depravity of most vampires, he sees that he provides music and respite, and thus goes out of his way to keep good relations with clients or associates. However, these relations are skin-deep for most, as Ives is a secretive man who does not invite many into his social circle.

Underneath the cool, distant persona, however, is the story of a man who has sought to preserve his humanity. Passions for his music, for his few close friends, and for cooking make his inner sanctum a warm and affectionate place. For those he does love, he is absolutely loyal and doting. While he is emotionally stunted from years of trauma, he seeks to show his love in small ways and with a meek, mature, and listening heart.

Affiliated Watchtower:
Arcana: Death and Spirit; Forces
Cabal Alignment: N/A

Physical
(three points to start out with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Athleticism: 0
Melee: 0
Ranged/Firearm: 2
Senses/Initiative: 1

Mental & Social
(Start out with four points with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 0
Leadership: 2

Abilities
(Start off with four points which may be used but only a max of two placed in Gnosis at start. Specify which Path (Arcana) as well.
Gnosis: 2 (2 Death, 2 Spirit)
Mage Sight: 4
Wisdom: 1.5
Hubris: 0
Paradox Modifier: 0
Attainments: N/A
Legacies: N/A

Biographical Information:

Ives Holland was born with an ear for music and a love for the night. He was born late in an evening in April, and supposedly stopped crying as his mother held him while sitting near a window. Her lovely humming, and the music his father played on a battery-powered radio, stirred his soul and provided the first communication between himself and the outside world. Indeed, music would prove to be his most constant companion and window to the world of his peers.

His need for music eclipsed his ability to find friends in school. Many mistook his personality as standoffish, when in reality he possessed an understanding that he was unusual. He kept quiet, practiced his violin, and attended meetings and events for the school orchestra. Yet even when surrounded by classmates who cheered for him and his abilities, with which he won several awards and even a scholarship, he felt alone. Stress and static bubbled in his mind, and he only found comfort in his violin and in stargazing on clear nights.

Desperate for their son to have friends and companions, his parents tried to get him to read romantic novels and to watch rom-coms. Ives found these events uncomfortable, and tried to suggest other activities he could share with his parents - going to plays and operas, watching shows on Broadway, even going to the occasional music festival. While his parents were glad that he still wished to have a close relationship with them, they spoke to his teachers and to his school’s conductor, who all agreed that romance and the crushes of young girls seemed alien to him. His friends were few, but those who did get close to him knew that Ives’s inner world was as colorful as it was strange.

Yet communicating this sensitive inner world would take a miracle. Perhaps, even Magic.

With his completion of an esteemed music program at the Oxford School of Music, he had a degree in Classical Music Theory and had been accepted into the London Symphony. Even so, he still had no companion or romantic experience. Yet his day changed while he was performing with a young woman in Glasgow. She was elegant, an old soul wrapped in a feisty spirit, and determined to break through his shy demeanor with the fine stroke of a harp. Daireann Carroll had accomplished the impossible. Not only did Ives fall in love…

But he found that his world had expanded, far more than he ever would have imagined it would.

Music was a world of transitions, of endings and beginnings, crescendos and dips, sharps and flats. Nightingale, who was already sensitive to the way music moved the soul even through death, began to see the tapestry behind his performances, and he grasped at this new reality. A newborn Moros, he found a budding, quiet joy in his new life and love.

Even as a Sleepwalker, Daireann understood the way his soul seemed to tick, and she responded with grace. For many, she was a translator of the inner workings in his heart. If he had ideas for orchestral pieces, or stage settings, or even for the expressions of actors on a stage, she would bring his ideas to others. Eternally grateful and devoted to her, Ives-now with the Mage’s name “Nightingale”-showed her a radiant love he had shown to none before her. Yet as a Moros, trials and tribulations would stay a part of his life. Daireann was infertile, and her parents doubted his good intentions for their first year of dating. Yet his fierce lover stood with him as he stood with her, and eventually, a powerful transition broke the ceiling of his ecstasy. In 2010, they married, and Nightingale began to see colors in his life he had never seen.

But the Tapestry would steal many of these colors, in order to remind him that he was still a Moros.

In 2015, Daireann began to become wobbly, weak, and frequently confused. Her spirit always showed through, however, and even when she knew she was gravely ill, she encouraged him to keep his heart open. She taught him to cook, to care for a home, to do all of the domestic things which would provide them both with comfort through their next large transition. In the fall of 2015, his beloved wife was diagnosed with glioblastoma. The next nine months would change the way they saw each other’s relationship. Nightingale became a caretaker, intimately aware of the link between love and imminent death.

Daireann did not wish to continue chemotherapy to the end. Both she and her husband found comfort best in the home they had made together, and in the warmth of summer, in the blankets and pillows of their small nest. Nightingale internally struggled with the inevitable end, and found himself leaning on his wife to understand his role. She adored the way he bathed her and confided his fears in her, and he adored how she always found ways to bring his heart to life. Even as she drew her last breath, she breathed against his chest, and they were as close as they had ever been.

Yet the “aftermath” of this beautiful love stuck with Nightingale, even as he was a Mage of transitions. He suffered quietly, continuing to perform with the London Orchestra and pursuing his own projects on the side. Yet eventually, he decided to change locales in order to find healing. Moving to sunny Los Angeles, he built a home there and joined the LA Symphony Orchestra. In the meantime, he began to find stranger and more opulent clients among the denizens of the Night. Toreadors and other Camarilla began to approach him for his music, for his unique ability to stroke their long-rotted heartstrings. As he began to attend to and perform for them, Nightingale started to wonder on his position in this eternal moonlit dance of the Masquerade, and started to wonder on the pangs of his heart for love…

[Imperialisium]

Mage
NationStates Name: Luminesa
Character Name: Ives Holland/Nightingale
Age: 40
Birthdate: April 21st, 1983
Physical Appearance and Description:

(Image)

Demeanor:

On the surface, Ives is a model Moros. Polite, calm, and muted, he understands well the etiquette that the Masquerade requires. Though he greatly dislikes the depravity of most vampires, he sees that he provides music and respite, and thus goes out of his way to keep good relations with clients or associates. However, these relations are skin-deep for most, as Ives is a secretive man who does not invite many into his social circle.

Underneath the cool, distant persona, however, is the story of a man who has sought to preserve his humanity. Passions for his music, for his few close friends, and for cooking make his inner sanctum a warm and affectionate place. For those he does love, he is absolutely loyal and doting. While he is emotionally stunted from years of trauma, he seeks to show his love in small ways and with a meek, mature, and listening heart.

Affiliated Watchtower:
Arcana: Death and Spirit; Forces
Cabal Alignment: N/A

Physical
(three points to start out with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Athleticism: 0
Melee: 0
Ranged/Firearm: 2
Senses/Initiative: 1

Mental & Social
(Start out with four points with up to eight possible per field as the story progresses)
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 0
Leadership: 2

Abilities
(Start off with four points which may be used but only a max of two placed in Gnosis at start. Specify which Path (Arcana) as well.
Gnosis: 2 (2 Death, 2 Spirit)
Mage Sight: 4
Wisdom: 1.5
Hubris: 0
Paradox Modifier: 0
Attainments: N/A
Legacies: N/A

Biographical Information:

Ives Holland was born with an ear for music and a love for the night. He was born late in an evening in April, and supposedly stopped crying as his mother held him while sitting near a window. Her lovely humming, and the music his father played on a battery-powered radio, stirred his soul and provided the first communication between himself and the outside world. Indeed, music would prove to be his most constant companion and window to the world of his peers.

His need for music eclipsed his ability to find friends in school. Many mistook his personality as standoffish, when in reality he possessed an understanding that he was unusual. He kept quiet, practiced his violin, and attended meetings and events for the school orchestra. Yet even when surrounded by classmates who cheered for him and his abilities, with which he won several awards and even a scholarship, he felt alone. Stress and static bubbled in his mind, and he only found comfort in his violin and in stargazing on clear nights.

Desperate for their son to have friends and companions, his parents tried to get him to read romantic novels and to watch rom-coms. Ives found these events uncomfortable, and tried to suggest other activities he could share with his parents - going to plays and operas, watching shows on Broadway, even going to the occasional music festival. While his parents were glad that he still wished to have a close relationship with them, they spoke to his teachers and to his school’s conductor, who all agreed that romance and the crushes of young girls seemed alien to him. His friends were few, but those who did get close to him knew that Ives’s inner world was as colorful as it was strange.

Yet communicating this sensitive inner world would take a miracle. Perhaps, even Magic.

With his completion of an esteemed music program at the Oxford School of Music, he had a degree in Classical Music Theory and had been accepted into the London Symphony. Even so, he still had no companion or romantic experience. Yet his day changed while he was performing with a young woman in Glasgow. She was elegant, an old soul wrapped in a feisty spirit, and determined to break through his shy demeanor with the fine stroke of a harp. Daireann Carroll had accomplished the impossible. Not only did Ives fall in love…

But he found that his world had expanded, far more than he ever would have imagined it would.

Music was a world of transitions, of endings and beginnings, crescendos and dips, sharps and flats. Nightingale, who was already sensitive to the way music moved the soul even through death, began to see the tapestry behind his performances, and he grasped at this new reality. A newborn Moros, he found a budding, quiet joy in his new life and love.

Even as a Sleepwalker, Daireann understood the way his soul seemed to tick, and she responded with grace. For many, she was a translator of the inner workings in his heart. If he had ideas for orchestral pieces, or stage settings, or even for the expressions of actors on a stage, she would bring his ideas to others. Eternally grateful and devoted to her, Ives-now with the Mage’s name “Nightingale”-showed her a radiant love he had shown to none before her. Yet as a Moros, trials and tribulations would stay a part of his life. Daireann was infertile, and her parents doubted his good intentions for their first year of dating. Yet his fierce lover stood with him as he stood with her, and eventually, a powerful transition broke the ceiling of his ecstasy. In 2010, they married, and Nightingale began to see colors in his life he had never seen.

But the Tapestry would steal many of these colors, in order to remind him that he was still a Moros.

In 2015, Daireann began to become wobbly, weak, and frequently confused. Her spirit always showed through, however, and even when she knew she was gravely ill, she encouraged him to keep his heart open. She taught him to cook, to care for a home, to do all of the domestic things which would provide them both with comfort through their next large transition. In the fall of 2015, his beloved wife was diagnosed with glioblastoma. The next nine months would change the way they saw each other’s relationship. Nightingale became a caretaker, intimately aware of the link between love and imminent death.

Daireann did not wish to continue chemotherapy to the end. Both she and her husband found comfort best in the home they had made together, and in the warmth of summer, in the blankets and pillows of their small nest. Nightingale internally struggled with the inevitable end, and found himself leaning on his wife to understand his role. She adored the way he bathed her and confided his fears in her, and he adored how she always found ways to bring his heart to life. Even as she drew her last breath, she breathed against his chest, and they were as close as they had ever been.

Yet the “aftermath” of this beautiful love stuck with Nightingale, even as he was a Mage of transitions. He suffered quietly, continuing to perform with the London Orchestra and pursuing his own projects on the side. Yet eventually, he decided to change locales in order to find healing. Moving to sunny Los Angeles, he built a home there and joined the LA Symphony Orchestra. In the meantime, he began to find stranger and more opulent clients among the denizens of the Night. Toreadors and other Camarilla began to approach him for his music, for his unique ability to stroke their long-rotted heartstrings. As he began to attend to and perform for them, Nightingale started to wonder on his position in this eternal moonlit dance of the Masquerade, and started to wonder on the pangs of his heart for love…

Accepted