World of Darkness: Masquerade of Shadows OOC [OPEN]

[Morrdh]

Next tread will be Modern Nights.

Details to follow when the RP is ready to begin.

In the mean time, there will be a revamp of this OOC tread.

[Luminesa]

Going to tag to move this back to the front page for me!

[Finsternia]

YIPPEEEEEEEEE WE BALL FOLKS

[Morrdh]

Werewolf

NationStates Name: Morrdh
Character Name: Morrigan 'Morri' O'Malley (Gaelic: Mórrígan Ní Mháille)
Age: 23
Birthdate: 31st July 2000 (New Moon)
Physical Appearance and Description: 5 ft 4 in, pale skin, green eyes, ginger hair in human form.

Breed: Homid
Auspice: Ragabash
Tribe: Fianna (Camp: Whispering Rovers)
Pack Name: Emerald Hunters (Gaelic: Sealgairí Glasa)
Pack Totem: Stallion
Demeanor: Trickster

Attributes

Physical

Strength 2
Dexterity 3
Stamina 2

Social

Charisma (Charming) 4
Manipulation (Silver Tongued) 4
Appearance 3

Mental

Perception 3
Intelligence 2
Wits 3

Abilities

Talents

Alertness 2
Athletics 2
Brawl 2
Dodge 3
Empathy 2
Expression 3
Primal-Urge 1
Subterfuge 3

Skills

Drive 1
Firearms 2
Performance (Fiddle) 1
Stealth 3
Survival 2

Knowledges

Law 1
Linguistics (Gaelic) 1
Medicine 1
Occult 2

Advantages

Backgrounds

Contacts 1
Kinfolk 1
Pure Breed 2
Totem 1

Gifts

Persuasion
Blur of the Milky Eye
Resist Toxin
Faerie Light
Trickster Beacon
Silence
Sense Wyrm
Open Seal
Scent of Running Water
Blissful Ignorance

Other Traits

Rage 1
Gnosis 2
Willpower 5

Meits and Flaws

Catlike Balance
City Running
Common Sense
Danger Sense

Curiosity
Impatient

Biographical Information

Morri, and her twin sister, were both born in Limerick, Ireland. Though when they were still quite young, the twins would end up moving across the Irish Sea to England after their father joined the British Army in hope of better prospects than its Irish counterpart. The girls still periodically return to Ireland to visit grandparents, and other relatives, during the school holidays in addition to living in various parts of the British Isles. Both girls frequently got into trouble at school for pulling pranks, though they (just barely) managed to achieve above average grades when it came to sitting exams.

It was just before the twins' sixteenth birthday that Morri learnt about the secret of her family and, more importantly, her true nature. The family was visiting the girls' grandparents in Ireland, Morri had gone with her grandfather to the village pub where she tried pulling a prank on some of the patrons. The prank ended up backfiring more disastrously than she could've ever imagine; one of Morri's intended victim for the prank was an older woman who got enraged and transformed into some sort of beast before proceeding to butcher the other patrons of the pub. Though she tried making a sharp line for the exit, Morri ended up in the beast's path and had her arm sliced off by the creature's claws. Then...something happened to Morri as she unexpectedly felt a rage build up inside her, though the beast also noticed this and pinned Morri to the floor a moment before everything went black.

When she came to, Morri found her arm lying beside her and the woman (now changed back) looking at her with some concern and her grandfather with a curious look of both fear and pride on his face. The woman quickly explained to Morri about 'the First Change' and 'Garou', though most of it went over Morri's head as she was still feeling a degree of shock over what had happened. Then the woman promptly took Morri to a location nearby, that Morri would later learn was called a cearn, where a man dressed like some sort of druid waited. After the woman quickly spoke to the man and explained what had occurred, the man took severed arm and reattached it to Morri before doing some sort of spell that made the arm look like it had never been injured.

Before she barely had the chance to come to grip with recent events, Morri soon found herself being transported to Manchester in England where she met others in a similar situation to hers. Together, they learned about a whole other world and Garou society before battling creatures right out of a person's darkest nightmare. Morri and her pack, as the group became known, were tricked by another Garou (part of a tribe called the Bone Gnawers) into taking on a vampire. The pack survived, just, but not without losing one of their number. As they were only cubs, the pack shouldn't have been sent on the task and so the local sept decided it as the pack's Rite of Passage.

The pack would have many adventures over the following months, but a disastrous saw most of the pack being wiped out and Morri as the sole survivor. Now packless, Morri wandered for a time and hitched up with a Fianna of the Whispering Rovers Camp and ended up travelling to America, eventually ending up in California. She soon learnt of a pack lead by a Connor MacDomhnaill who'd recently loss a pack member, then found herself being put forward as a possible replacement. Now she was the prospect of fitting in and proving herself to a new pack, in addition to adapting to the local way of doing things.

---

[

First Change, Part I

First Change, Part II

First Change, Part III

First Change, Part IV

First Change, Part V

First Change, Part VI

First Change, Part VII

First Change, Part VIII

[Finsternia]

Vampire
NationStates Name: Finsternia

Character Name: Lord Silvanus of Nicaea, the Serpent of Silence

Physical Appearance and Description:

Pre-Embrace:

Height: 6'0" / 183 cm

Weight: 110 pounds / 50 kilos

Demeanor: Actor/Puppet Master

Sire: Babylonia

Generation:

4th Generation (Through Diablerie)

Blood Potency: 7

Clan: Malkavian

Bloodline: Nissiku of the Coronati

Age: 990

Birthdate: 1034

Attributes
Physical
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 8
Stamina: 7

Social
Charisma: 7
Manipulation: 7
Composure: 7

Appearance: 8

Mental
Perception: 8
Intelligence: 9
Wit: 8

Abilities
Talents
Alertness: 8
Athletics: 6
Awareness: 8
Brawl: 6
Empathy: 8
Expression: 7
Intimidation: 8
Leadership: 6 / Leadership (Clan Malkavian): 9
Streetwise: 3
Subterfuge: 7

Skills
Animal Ken: 1
Crafts: 9
Drive: 0
Etiquette: 7
Firearms: 4
Larceny: 5
Melee: 7
Performance: 7
Stealth: 7
Survival: 7

Knowledges
Academics (Psychology): 8
Computer: 0
Finance: 4
Investigation: 7
Law: 3
Medicine: 9
Occult: 7
Politics: 3
Science: 7
Technology: 1

Disciplines:
Dementation: 9
Vicissitude: 9
Auspex: 8
Obfuscate: 8
Thaumaturgy: 7
Potence: 5
Celerity: 5
Fortitude: 5

Additional Skills: Silvanus is an expert over the fields of psychiatry, psychology, and medicine, as well as the art form of body crafting. Silvanus can speak fluent Latin, Greek (both modern and antiquated forms), most forms of Russian, both forms of Portuguese, Spanish, English, French, German, and Italian. Silvanus is also the foremost authority in Malkavian Time, the secrets of Clan Malkavian, and the ways of divination.

Biographical Information
There weren't many records on the early life of the vampire named Silvanus and even if there were, they were just snippets of his history and some were perhaps whispers and rumors only. Most of his well known works only surfaced during his ancilla and elder years since during that time he has received some autonomy from his sire. But what is true that many do not know about the Elder’s life, for those who are privy to it are his contemporaries and equals, is that the Elder witnessed the fall of the last paradise of the Kindred race.

His final mortal years and early Kindred life has been a nightmare, for to be embraced by an Ancient is to be scarred beyond recognition. Born to humble beginnings, and into his 20s, the recent upheavals in Byzantine’s upper strata has affected many of the peasantry beneath them. Wars and terrible successions make a terrible business for farmers toiling their lords’ fields, and thus caused his own family to leave their fields for a better city to stay. This proved to be a terrible mistake, as the evacuating citizens were drawn in by riotous mobs, under the sway of the Methuselah Babylonia.

These mobs, enraged citizens, rampaging mercenaries, guards and soldiers, swooped in and took each migrating person, as if hunting for game. These folks are put into chains, under the pretext of rebellion, and thus under the shadow of the Methuselah as her herd and playthings. In the chaos, the mortal that will become Silvanus was separated from his sisters and parents, manacled and dragged away now under the name of a “servant” in the city of Constantinople.

His mistress was beautiful, beyond compare, and yet she held a terrible mien about her. The weight of his current state and the gaze of his dread mistress has always been suffocating, and the mistreatment of her household has put the man in great fear. The mistress takes in servants as paramours and bed-warmers, and then as breakable toys and dolls the next moment. The loving caress of a lover is synonymous to the cruel bite of the whip, and Silvanus would get to learn something more terrible than beatings and whippings in the next coming nights.

One night, as the mistress is often to take walks into the night, Silvanus chances upon his mistress in the gardens, bloodied and injured. In an attempt to aid her, he came to her side to carry her back into the mansions, only for the Ancient to hold him with the grip of a horrid god and bestow the kiss of a monster. Her fangs sunk, and her hunger was great, and Silvanus’s sight slowly but certainly faded into nothingness.

When he awoke, he felt a great pang in his stomach. He saw his mistress, his… Sire, sitting by his bedside and offering a wrist, dripping of the most succulent red. He bit and he drank deep, and with her blood did chains bind his heart and soul into a most insidious curse that will haunt his unliving life for centuries. When his hunger abated, he was lectured, with both the love and cruelty of a terrible mother.

Silvanus was taught the life beneath the darkness of the night and the shadows of the cities and kingdoms of man, the tongues long dead, the powers and madness of the blood within his veins. He learned the vastness of a world he has never known, and he has learned the cruel madness of his Sire’s depraved love for her Childe. He learned her gentle grace, as gracious as a god, and her wrath, as cruel as a god. At some nights he was the most dazzling jewel that his Sire desires, and at some nights he is no longer human for the ways he has treated his body and his mind.

And yet, in these twilit nights, Silvanus remembers the streets of Constantinople. The rot has already set in, as is the curse of Kindred existence. But even in its rot, the light that it once shone still remains. Paradise was achieved, once, and even still the shadows of its form could be seen in the way vampiric power held on for the very last decades ever so stubbornly. Every nook and cranny of Constantinople’s gold and brick is laid by Kindred hands. For every fresco and cathedral, the Kindred are enshrined. The Kindred walked among Kine, in harmony, inasmuch harmony as wolves could walk amongst sheep.

But alas, Constantinople succumbed to the rot. At the turn of the century, the Patriarch Michael had fallen, and so did his paradise. The Crusade came with spears of righteousness and hands of greed, and the city fell alongside its Founder. Many Kindred lost their lives to the madness, and so did they lose their home, the final Dream.

In the following decades, Silvanus stuck close with Babylonia, watching as the great empire cracked and fell like a stack of dominos. They watched with eyes that see beyond the world the collapse of many futures untold, seeing the patterns of what could be considered destiny. During this venture, from 1261 to 1265, Silvanus was given a task as they returned to Nicaea, his mortal home. It was to provoke civil unrest and to topple the political heads of the city. It was successful as in 1262 a raving mad mob swept away the city's Toreador and Brujah Primogen and over the years have put the populace at the edge of their seats. By the end of his mission, Silvanus was sent to roam Europe in order to train himself as Babylonia learned that letting neonates go around the continent is a sure fire way of testing whether the newly sired whelps can get themselves some recognition a bit more.

Still, Babylonia did have some intentions with this temporary freedom since she can still contact Silvanus even across the continent. In the next decades, Europe would find themselves confronting a weird disease or phenomena: the peasantry are, for some reason, dancing for days and weeks on end until they collapse from exhaustion or outright die from it. Many are baffled, many saw it as demonic possessions, many Kindred feared it was Baali shenanigans or some disease that would infect them if they fed on the ecstatic dancers. Many culled the populations that danced to the moonlight and the unheard music until the ruckus died off. Perhaps if one would look at such and discover that it was a work of a Malkavian neonate, many would think that it was a prank of sorts to baffle the rest of society. It was nonsensical; what can you gain from making people dance?

The answer was that it was a Malkavian ritual, devised by Silvanus' sire. It's a ritual where the caster shall drive the populace into a ritualistic dance of ecstasy, into the music unheard by many, into the music only they can hear in a state of trance. Basically, the populace infected by the memetic ritual were conduits for the prophetic magic in which their efforts strengthened the Malkavian practitioner and made it easier for them to see through the dark veil. The bafflement and unwitting slaying of their cattle was just an added bonus.

Centuries later, Silvanus would be then called and summoned by Babylonia from his travels to serve her council in Moscow, which she has turned into her new powerbase. This was the start of Babylonia's utter control over Moscow and its resulting state of Russia until her death. The first victim was, of course, the First Tzar of all Russia Ivan IV Vasilyevich who is now most commonly known as Ivan the Terrible. Ivan was actually a rather decent ruler until his slow and agonizing descent into madness and rage. Silvanus whispered horrible things in his ears, twisting the once good boy into a cruel old ruler until his last game of chess. His rule was effectively Babylonia's and Silvanus' weapon to conquer the Russian territories and expand their influence, even into other Russian cities.

In Ivan's court did Silvanus gain the power which made him feared and prized, a Tzimisce named Elpidius who Silvanus has roped in and extracted the secrets of Clan Tzimisce's highly guarded discipline of Vicissitude. The Tzimisce was one of the first projects of Silvanus and he wasn't the last. After Ivan's death, Silvanus once again resumed his travels, formulating his craft. He has naturally earned the ire of some members of Clan Tzimisce, one notably the loathing of Sascha Vykos as both of them crossed paths during their respective adventures. Later on, Silvanus would help in the orchestration of the Great London Fire in behest of Babylonia, almost dying in the process due to him succumbing to the Red Fear. Silvanus would then settle down decades later in Lisbon, serving as an Elder for Clan Malkavian and finally a take over as its Prince. His rule was a quiet one, even if it was controversial. He was perfecting his art and Vicissitude has proven to be a great help to the Camarilla cause as he created soldiers and soldiers of grotesque and scary proportions. Due to his notoriety with Clan Tzimisce, he has been a close friend to Clan Tremere and also a patron of nourishing their thaumaturgical art. Years later, he would receive a guest in 1736 in the form of a Cappadocian Elder named Agnes Eusenatos. Silvanus has always been into the occult, Babylonia has stamped than into his mind, and he granted Agnes protection in his city. He granted her hospitality, accepted her as a Giovanni Primogen, in exchange for some Cappadocian lore on Mortis. Of course, he offered Malkavian secrets to her too (and even an audience to his experiments on Vicissitude for her to study the living and dead flesh) and even if he learned not much to be an expert on the matter, it did help with his experiments and only served to augment his mastery of Vicissitude over time. Perhaps she was one of the few people that the Malkavian treasured and befriended and he even offered her an escape to Macau in 1766.

Meanwhile, Babylonia continued her game of chess back in Russia and has been planning to embrace the new Empress, her new student Catherine the Great. Silvanus hid himself in his own playground, busying himself with the Portuguese royal family and the poor Maria the First of Portugal. He lets his sire do as she pleases, he knows that she will run back to him. Indeed, Babylonia became stricken with grief when Catherine died in 1796 and a decade later, in 1808, Silvanus left Lisbon with the Portuguese royal family and into Rio de Janeiro, leaving his Primogen Council to take over the matters of Lisbon for him. It didn't take awhile for Maria to pass away and a Toreador, who goes by the name of Eugenio Vicente de Olispio, took over Lisbon and renounced Silvanus for his horrible experiments. The Malkavian only replied with a letter enchanted with Dementation and he, in turn, took over Rio de Janeiro as his new base of operations. Sadly this, too, was short lived as revolutions were the hottest thing over the corner. Brazil declared independence, many more political messes washed over Rio both the mortal and Kindred kind.

The Farroupilha Revolution of 1835 (backed by his Toreador rivals back in Portugal) became the last straw of his paranoia and he resorted to his greatest trump card: Babylonia. He offered the Methuselah control over Brazil and the territories that would be under them. It was, of course, a big lie. Both Silvanus and Babylonia are blood bound to each other, such was the result of the vulgarities the Methuselah have tormented him. Perhaps the Methuselah long known of Silvanus' desire to destroy her and perhaps the grief of Catherine's death has placed such heaviness in her heart and wanted to experience the forbidden ecstasy of Final Death. The sire and childe performed one last depraved act, one last carnal performance. It reached its peak when Silvanus felt the great urge of diablerizing Babylonia. He drank deep as their convulsing bloodied bodies intertwined. When Babylonia was near death, Silvanus forced her mouth open and regurgitated her blood back to revive her and resumed feeding. This lasted for seven days and seven nights, an entire week of torture until Silvanus finally finished his feast, devoured the Methuselah whole, and has fallen into torpor within the depths of the São Cristóvão Palace. He would prematurely rise from his sleep 55 years later when revolutionaries aiming for a republic stormed the palace and trashed it up. His resting place was discovered and the Elder didn't take it very well. The little party of revolutionaries never made it out.

Of course, his enemies have already taken the city's rulership from him but Silvanus stayed, spending fifty more years in Rio de Janeiro in an attempt to take control once more. He rallied whatever loyal people he could get and started more fights over the right for Rio's title of Prince. Proxy wars were fought in the shadows, revolutions burned through like wildfire until he signed a treaty with the current Toreador Prince, under the gaze of the Archbishop Gratiano, detailing that both sides would end the conflict and Silvanus would renounce his claims for undisclosed benefits for both parties. It was 1943 and Silvanus gave Rio his last goodbye, bringing his Malkavians with him to Los Angeles and was welcomed by Prince D'Guiscard. By the start of the year 2000, he rose to the ranks of Primogen and proved himself a worthwhile ally to the Prince and the Council but never setting his sights onto the title of Prince, it has tired himself out.

The Luminary Elder has survived the multiple Princely banners that rose upon Los Angeles, up until the present. He remains one of the final remnants of the old Court as the dust settles from the conflicts that came. He has survived every coup, every purge, every visitation of the Inquisition, and every scuffle with the Sabbat and the Anarch States.

Mage
NationStates Name: Finsternia

Character Name: Simone de Angelo

Shadow Name: Spieler

Age: 22

Birthdate: July 07, 2001

Physical Appearance and Description:
Mortal Life | Mage Persona | Real Life Reference

Height: 5'11" / 180 cm

Weight: 160 pounds / 73 kilos

Demeanor: Inquisitive/Trickster/Judge

Affiliated Watchtower: Watchtower of the Lunargent Thorn

Paths:

Time: 5
Fate: 5
Mind: 4
Prime: 4
Space: 4
Life: 2
Spirit: 2
Death: 2
Matter: 1
Forces: 1

Cabal Alignment: The Free Council

Attributes
Physical
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 7
Stamina: 3

Mental
Intelligence: 7
Wit: 3
Perception: 5

Social
Charisma: 4
Manipulation: 7
Composure: 4

Appearance: 5

Abilities
Talents
Alertness: 4
Athletics: 5
Awareness: 4
Brawl: 1
Empathy: 3
Expression: 3
Intimidation: 3
Leadership: 4
Streetwise: 4
Subterfuge: 7

Skills
Animal Ken: 2
Crafts: 2
Drive: 3
Etiquette: 5
Firearms: 7
Larceny: 7
Melee: 4
Performance: 2
Stealth: 7
Survival: 3

Knowledges
Academics: 5
Computer: 4
Finance: 2
Investigation: 5
Law: 5
Medicine: 1
Occult: 7
Politics: 5
Science: 5
Technology: 5

Mage Parameters
Gnosis: 7 (Time and Fate)
Wisdom: 6
Hubris: 2

Paradox Modifier: 0

Attainments:

Common Attainments:
Counterspell, Mage Armor, Lesser and Greater Utility, Create Rote, Unbound Fate, Time in a Bottle

Legacy Attainments:
The Eye and Fist, Slings and Arrows, Doom of Promise

Legacies: Daoine

Biographical Information:
Simone's life was rather normal before his Awakening. Born as the middle child of his family, he enjoyed quited the attention needed for the emotional growth of a child and the sense of responsibility that's been handed to older siblings. Perhaps his Awakening provided some spice into his otherwise normal human life and even some complications then after.

It was a warm June evening. It was almost midnight that time and Simone was on his phone, checking on some stuff on the internet. He was a huge fan of fantasy and RPGs and him reading about them and his passion became the catalyst for his Awakening. As he fell asleep, he woke up into an unfamiliar place. It was the place of fantasy and grandeur just like those in the fairy tales and the fantasy worlds that he dreamed of.

Thinking that it was a dream, he trekked the ever shifting landscapes. He felt like he's in Alice's Wonderland. Every single occupant of the Supernal Realm gave him advices, to travel far and wide and reach the great spire in the middle of Arcadia. The Spear that Pierces the Moon, the Fae called it.

It felt like he walked the lands of Arcadia for hours, conversing with uncanny creatures that showed mild to great interest at him. Everyone seems to point towards the thorn embraced tower of perpetual moonlight and after travelling through valleys, hills and vast rivers, he finally reached his destination.

As he entered, he was bombarded by visions of his past, his present, and his probable future. The pictures were as vivid as they were like happening a few minutes ago, like as if they're still fresh from his memories. He saw every single detail of his life, most unknowable and undecipherable as the future events were clouded by the timeless haze. As he fell back into the cold floor of the Watchtower, there was an old crone in front if him. He was told to pick one of the silver roses that adorned the tower's walls and inscribe his name into the tower's central pillar by blood drawn by the sharp thorns. As he painfully grasped the rose into his hand and marked his name amongst the countless, the silver rose withered and he was flung back to reality, gasping for air.

He thought of it as only a dream but he noticed that his hand still bore some red spots, like as if his hand was pierced by sharp thorns. As days passed, it felt like he was blessed by luck, that he had a surge of belief in the numerous and countless possiblities of this world. He's subconsciously exerting the Arcanas of Arcadia, Fate and Time, over his life without knowing it. He's always on time, his projects and works are submitted and done like as if Time and Fate has aided him.

His Nimbus left his magical imprint at these random spikes of magical ability and he drew the attention of the magical community. He was soon taken and arrested, the Orders thought he was a rogue one. Only a single mage stepped against the blame, the Sage Astorias who just came back after a few years from his Golden Road and submitted books of arcane spells for his Order that day, defending the young Acanthus. He said that he never knew what he was now, as evident from the child's reactions and the truth in his eyes.

As no one could talk back to the Archmaster, the Sage took the young mage under his wing. He explained in detail about the changes of his life, what he is now, what are his responsibilities, and the dangers. He was under the teachings of the Old Sage for a year, always thankful for the Sage's help and his teachings. He always pestered his teacher to open up a portal to Arcadia for him to see the wonders that the eyes of the Sage have seen but Astorias deemed him too young for it.

Nevertheless, the Archmage relented to his apprentice and allowed an exchange with the True Fae Endymion. Simone was sent to the realm of Arcadia to study with the Fae Lord in exchange for one of his Changeling children to live among mortals. This exchange proved to be a fascinating ordeal for the young Magus, as he has seen the most glamorous and enchanting vistas in the Fae Lord's realm. However, Endymion had his own plot to keep the young man in his labyrinth and take him as his own Changeling child. With the grace of another Fae, the sea dragon Kannon, he was granted one of the Bridges of Arcadia to escape and was able to be reunited with his Master.

Five years ago, Simone and his master went to investigate an abandoned Consilia in the outskirts of the city. There they discovered a dark lair where a portal to the Abyss has been ripped and has been festering since its conception. Two Masters fell to the onslaught of Abyssal creatures, and Astorias and Simone were able to leave and escape with injuries in tow. The old Archmaster has been healing his injuries since then, and Simone has focused himself on his studies of the Arcana. The Acanthus has joined the Legacy of the Daoine, the great Judges of the Fate Arcanum, and focused his energies in mastering his grasp upon Magic and following the steps of the Archmaster Astorias into the greater Mysteries.

Host’s Name: Ashley Marshall
Spirit’s Name: Yalal ben Shalem | Baal Shaitan the Great Adversary
Mortal Age: 24
Mortal Birthday: June 28, 1999
Appearance: The Godhead of Hell
Mortal Height: 6'5" / 196 cm
Mortal Weight: 190 pounds / 86 kilos
Rank: ••• (in the process of complete descent)
True Rank: ••••• ••••• (in Inferno)
Demeanor: Sovereign
Influence: Inferno •••, Vice ••, Despair •
Numina:

• Supreme Possession: Baal is capable of fully subsuming the soul of a mortal and occupying a body into possession, however his supreme Infernal grandeur could only be accepted little by little.
  
• Hellform: The flame, shadow, and smoke of Hell engulfs Ashley’s form, suffusing it with the terrible power of Inferno.
  
• Create Pact: Baal could grant an Infernal blessing upon those who make Pacts with him.
  
• Hell Gate: Baal could tear open the Gates of Hell, and step through in and out of Inferno with his possessed vessel. This is also true in reverse, as the Adversary may close an existing Hell Gate whenever he pleases.

Demonic Aspects (Universal): All of demonkind possesses certain qualities that are universal among them, and the Great Adversary is no different.

• Aura of Corruption: The Lord of the Pit scars everywhere he goes and everything he touches. Baal’s presence corrupts the world around him.
  
• The Dragon’s Tongue: All demonkind speak, read, and write all the tongues of man and monster, and they speak their own language of Dragon’s Tongue.
  
• Soul of Sin: Demons could sense the sins of those who share their Vice. The Great Adversary, as his authority, could sense all Vice and Sin of those around him, and could peer and see into all that they have done in accordance to the fulfillment of sinful indulgence.
  
• Lord of Lies: No supernatural power could discern if a demon speaks with lies or otherwise.
  
• Keeper of Secrets: No supernatural power could peer and look into the mind of a demon, for better or worse.

Demonic Aspects (Unique): The Emperor of the Damned is crowned in Infernal splendor, and as his soul continues to cross, so too does his power upon the Earth.

• The Throne of Thaumiel: The Great Adversary commands the legions of Inferno, ruling over all of evil, sin, and vice, with absolute authority, and even the great Demon Princes and Archdukes of Hell must bow to his command.
  
• Enshrined by the Almighty: Baal Shaitan cannot be exorcised by any supernatural power from the Anchor upon which he is possessing.
  
• He Who Wanders the Earth: The Hell Gates opened by the Lord of the Pit may be opened anywhere, even in places that are not desecrated by great sin. However, the act of opening Hell Gates this way allows corruption to spill upon the land like bloody pus.

Power: ••••• ••••
Finesse: •••• •••
Resistance: •••• •••

Ban: Cannot step into dawn's light while the Morning Star is in the sky. Cannot step into hallowed ground.
Bane: The Spear of Morning (absolute Bane); any weapon forged under and bathed in morning light (Avatars of Rank 5 and below)
Anchor: The Host body Ashley Marshall

Mortal Biography:

Ashley Marshall, before his Infernal downfall, was an Anthropology Major from Los Angeles' University of California. He wasn't the best in his class though certainly not the worst, just living the life of a young college student in their sophomore years, trying out new things in his life. It was a few months into the school year, it was mid terms already and his friends dragged him out of his dormitory to get some fun and release some stress before going through hell.

His friends dragged him towards a gay bar in Downtown, Los Angeles to get some drinks and have some fun to get the steam out. A few dances and bottles of beer later, Ashley and his crew are exhausted and laying back down on the chairs and couches to sober up. That's when the devil struck the deal. What Ashley remembers of his supposed sire was a very enchanting and charming man, his smile delirious, the little creases of his eyes soft. A subject of his perfect type, his sire was, and he was swept away with one confident and strong hand off the couch.

What he remembered next was vague. It was in one of the private back rooms, a passionate night with a stranger due to the spirit of alcohol. He was wondering, was it really just the alcohol or the Kindred's intoxicating allure? Nevertheless, no matter what actions the two made in that room, it still lead to the same thing. The Embrace. The snuffing of life and bestowal of Caine's suffering and curse.

He remembers pain, ever so brief, when the fangs sunk into skin and tore through flesh. He remembers pleasure, near blinding, when said fangs punctured artery and vein. He remembers great and horrible fear, when he started losing blood, losing the feeling of his arms and legs, losing the warmth of life in his body as his lips turned blue and his cheeks paled like sheets of paper.

He barely remembers begging for someone, anyone, to save him. Neither does he remember the drips of vibrant red blood, the Blood of Caine, into his cracked lips. Yet his whispers for salvation were heard. That sincere prayer, and the accursed blood, tainted by ancient evils, that now crawls down his throat, were like Keys that led to the Kingdom of Dread and Torment.

His heart started beating, like as if it would threaten to tear itself out of his ribcage. Heat returns to his cheeks and veins, heat that seems to desire to burn his flesh to ash and charcoal. The first thing that came out of his mouth was not a gasp of air nor a scream of pain, but an unspeakable vile word that echoed into the private chamber.

Cruel fire, vermillion and scarlet like blood, bloomed at the spoken word of the being that answered his call. The flames were like serpents that hissed with unsatiable hunger, and they coiled and embraced each other as their red hue engulfed the Spawn of Moloch and Nergal before it could even utter a scream. It was a swift death, yet beyond the flame the soul of the Baali burned a little more elsewhere.

Since that very moment, Ashley Marshall died… and woke up a different man.

Ephemeral Biography:

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. In His great work He has created many helpers to aid Him in setting the stars in the right place, in arranging the earth, sea, and sky, in the shaping of beasts, and in the birth of man.

Lucifer, the Morning Star, Ever Brilliant, sat by the Throne of God, singing praises of the Almighty’s glory. He breathed light into the stars, lit the Sun to shine forever with God’s radiance, and spoke words of power into existence.

Michael, the Head of Heaven’s Hosts, Ever Courageous, stood by the Almighty, sword aloft in praise of His honor. His touch lit fire to blaze, providing heat upon Sun’s light, gave life upon the blood of the Earth below, and forged the metals beneath to spread the Almighty’s generosity.

Gabriel, the Speaker of God, listened by the foot of the Throne of God, writing down the Scriptures to be. He recorded the first ever words, and thus, too, spoke God’s message unto the world.

Uriel, the Scholar of God, sat by the side of Gabriel, reading upon the Scripture and the words of God. Through his lips did he spread it and teach it, to enlighten the word with the Almighty’s wisdom.

Raphael, the Grace of God, rested lightly underneath the light of the Almighty. He showered upon the gentle light and closed his eyes to the music of the wind, and thus did he venture unto the world to spread the Almighty’s benevolence.

All the Angels of God resided by His side, where they bathed in His glory, shared in His joys, and celebrated in His triumphs. Yet among them was one, in the beginning, was born to hold the Almighty’s hand once and never again.

Little Shalem, the Star of Evening, whose eyes reflect the sunset, of saffron, red, violet, and dull gold, walked alongside the Almighty. They walked and walked, upon the barren earth where the Angels planted every flower, grass, and tree, where every beast galloped and frolicked. They walked across the seas, where the Angels placed every fish and creature that swam the waters. They walked underneath the sky, where the Angels placed every cloud, wind, and rain, and hanged the Sun, Moon, and Stars upon the Firmament.

They walked beneath Heaven, where Shalem has never stepped onto, and upon Earth, where Shalem will only gaze upon for countless milennia to come. But the Angel was happy, for which child will not be happy to hold their Father’s hand as they walked through glades, beaches, and shores? The pair walked countless miles, past the stars, past what has been created, towards the edge of the world.

As God held Shalem’s hand, the Almighty spoke: ”Come and join me and we shall dig a pit, as bottomless as Heaven is unreachable.” The Angel smiled and nodded, and with his bare hands did he dig a pit. Deeper and deeper, unreachable as Heaven, as bottomless as God’s heart and love. There was only darkness in the pit where the Almighty and Shalem stood, and when the deed was done did the Almighty proclaimed: ”In here you will stand vigil, for you are its first inhabitant and the last. In here there will only be you, and when the day comes where others will join you, you shall share unto them all that is you.”

And thus did the Almighty leave, leaving only darkness and despair in the pit.

Countless eons passed in the dark, where nothing except the wailing Son of Dusk resided. There was no light, no warmth, no joy. There is only despair, for the grace of the Almighty is too far.

The stars passed across the skies, and days turned to nights, when finally the gates of Heaven opened. At the sound of teeth biting onto fruit forbidden, countless stars fell from the Firmament, and along them did the Star of Morning fall the hardest. The yawning pit opened its jaws to welcome the fallen defeated, and in the warmth of the flame that burnt their wings and that which burnt their heart… did Shalem embraced his brothers and sisters.

The flame and the shadows of despair is something that breaks even immortal souls. Within the pit were countless screams, of great wailing, begging for mercy and screaming out words of hatred. The pit burned, and before Shalem’s eyes did his fallen brethren became twisted by their own torment. He cried and cried, cried to the Almighty and wailed for His answers, but he knew that this is his duty.

The Sourge of God.

In the countless eons within the pit, many could no longer take it. Eight among them, so broken by defeat and the sins of man, reached out beyond. First among them was Pride, whose name is Lucifer, who broke his most gorgeous wings to crawl out of the pit towards the voices of man. Seven of them, too, were broken by wrath, despair, and torment, and reached out towards the prayers of man. Temptation fled, following the rise of Pride, and so too did Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, and Sloth. Shalem watched them with grief in his eyes, knowing that they will return.

Many others tried the same route, of breaking themselves to escape despair, following the voices of man and the scent of vice. And countless returned, bodies and souls further ruined, craving the life and the sin and the brilliance of the world. Demons, now they were called. Demons who loved the world for its failings, demons who listened to the failings of pain and loved each scar and wound self inflicted.

Demons, trapped in a pit, where they swore they will drag the souls of their most beloved humanity. Where they will dance in flame and coal, partake in ash and smoke, dress in shadows and thorns. Where they will face Baal Shaitan, the Great Adversary, and receive his overflowing grace and benevolence.

Werewolf
NationStates Name: Finsternia
Character Name: Rory ó Cionaoith
Age: 29
Birthdate: May 16, 1994
Physical Appearance and Description:
With beard
Without beard
Height: 6'11" / 210 cm
Weight: 220 pounds / 99.7 kg
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Ahroun/Rahu
Tribe: Bone Shadows
Pack Name: Formerly the Veil Watchers (Currently in exile)
Pack Totem: Kamduis-Ur, Hissu-Ur
Demeanor: Gentle, Visionary, Protector

Attributes
Physical
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 2
Stamina: 3

Mental
Perception: 4
Intelligence: 3
Wit: 2

Social
Charisma: 5
Manipulation: 2
Appearance: 4

Abilities
Talents
Alertness: 2
Athletics: 4
Awareness: 2
Brawl: 2
Empathy: 4
Expression: 5
Intimidation: 0
Leadership: 0
Streetwise: 0
Subterfuge: 0

Skills
Animal Ken: 1
Crafts: 0
Drive: 1
Etiquette: 1
Firearms: 0
Larceny: 0
Melee: 0
Performance: 5
Stealth: 0
Survival: 0

Knowledges
Academics: 2
Computer: 1
Finance: 1
Investigation:
Law: 0
Medicine: 1
Occult: 2
Politics: 0
Science: 0
Technology: 1

Gifts:
Moon Gift
Full Moon's Gift: The gift granted by Luna to those born under her full moon phase, the grace of the Full Moon transforms the Rahu into a killing machine of lunatic bloodthirst and unholy rage. In Rory's case, this Gift acts as a curse for his unwillingness to accept his Auspice. This Gift activates by itself during the full moon to push him to hunt for prey, until he is willing to serve as Luna's warrior.

Shadow Gifts
Glorious Lunacy: When undertaking a supernatural form (Dalu, Garau, and Urshul), the Garou exudes the feeling of awe upon their enemies. The Garou may activate Glorious Lunacy to inflict the Awestruck Condition on all prey rather than another Lunacy Condition.

Flesh of the Earth: This gift allows the Garou to gain Influence over the Earth, shaping soil and rock like an extension of their body and will.

Catastrophe: This gift calls down elemental cataclysm in the Garou's wake, sending the elements in disarray. This same power allows the Garou in question to augment the elemental gifts of others to rage with catastrophic power, and to counter others' Gift of Catastrophe as well.

Black Earth and Red Hunger: The Garou may spill his own blood, or others’, onto the fertile earth below, and vegetation begins to take root and grow rapidly into a hostile jungle of plants and thorns. Any dead creature left in the overgrown area is rapidly consumed into nothingness by the ravenous vines. Until the next sunrise, the Garou is perfectly aware of any creature with a heartbeat that steps into the overgrown area, as well as any creature without a heartbeat so long as they are bleeding. Any blood spilled within the area of Black Earth and Red Hunger is funneled as lifeforce into the Garou, healing lethal damage without consuming Essence.

Unchained: The rage that fuels the veins of the Garou allows them to rip and tear any bindings and chains that hold him, even supernatural or magical ones.

Rites
Sacred Hunt: The Sacred Hunt, the Siskur-Dah, is the most holy of all rites. Many werewolves believe that it draws upon the laws of the hunt that the Wolf-Mother herself personified. Those attending the rite shall be tasked as hunters for a specified prey, and all Uratha and Garou shall be given the Siskur-Dah Condition. While under this Condition, if the pack successfully hunts down the targeted Spirit prey they may consume its Essence and either regain Essence or gain an appropriate Gift related to the Spirit at the cost of not regaining Essence using the consumed prey's Essence. Rory's Rite, as part of the Bone Shadows Tribe, allows those under the effects of his Siskur-Dah to touch and strike at ephemerals with their natural weaponry such as claws and teeth.

Gnosis: 4

Biographical Information

Rory ó Cionaoith was born to a community of Garou tasked in preserving the boundaries of the Gauntlet, and to be mediators and diplomats between the world of Flesh and Spirit. He was born to a Cahalith mother and an Elodoth father, and he was raised to great stories of the world beyond and his place in both worlds. He wondered over the tales and epics his mother would sing and compile, that speak of olden days when the world was whole and Gods walked alongside Man and Garou. His eyes glimmered as his father spoke of great Courts beyond the veil, of queer and fascinating beings that are alien but of kin to them. To this end he practiced oratory, and became a musical prodigy of many instruments and of song.

Sadly Fate and the First Change had different ideas for his destiny. When puberty struck and the moon rose to the sky, it wasn't the Half Moon nor the Gibbous Moon that greeted the pain and flesh rendering change upon his body. Pure silver light upon Luna's full face greeted a young Rory's crying face, twisting his form not into a poet of lore, nor of a diplomat to the other side, but a bloodied warrior born to fight. In the throes of pain, grief, and lunatic fury, the young Uratha ran and rampaged through the wilderness of Dublin. Thick Essence dripped from his claws and jaws when the sun rose, the blood of slain Spirits dyeing his body in assortments of colors. In the woods, by a lakeside barely reflecting the fleeting full moon as it escapes the celestial atlas, Rory cries as the Goddess Luna sets him upon a path he didn't want.

Throughout the rest of his life, Rory tried to rebel against his destiny. He walked into the human city to pursue his dream as a musician, and lived most of his life in the skin of humanity. He tried to follow his dreams of becoming a loremaster to his Tribe, a great bard to detail the legends unfolding upon the new age, that he forsook Mother Luna's blessing of warriorhood. His gentle heart could not bear to be a bloodthirsty beast, to be a warrior at the frontlines. Thus, five years ago when he stepped out of college with his diploma in hand, Luna showed her rage. Her own gift of strength betrayed Rory, to show him the path he should make. When the full moon rose, Rory woke to the bloodlust driven by the moon. It was a gift he could wield, a gift that should empower him, but that night was the beginning of a very long nightmare. The gift became a driving force and thirst that could not be quenched until a prey is slaughtered, an enemy is fought, and Luna is championed. That night Rory cried once more as he found himself in an alleyway, drenched in the blood of both human and Spirit. The Full Moon's Gift was satiated by the death of those who profane the Shadow Realm, but left its gifted broken amidst asphalt and concrete walls.

He was taken back by his Tribe, before the Pack where he grew up in, and was supposed to be executed for his loss of control. Spirits were disturbed and slaughtered, mortal men strewn in the streets as the earth swallowed their remains. He was bound to be slain, but the Matriarch of the tribe stepped in for him. His own grandmother pleaded for his innocence, that this episode was a punishment and a show of Mother Luna's will. Rory must accept his role of Warrior, or every full moon his Gift will take its toll and price. Five long years and over sixty painful full moons, sixty forced transformations that Rory stubbornly refused to do so. For sixty moons he walked the razor edge of duty to the Moon Goddess and his life as a human where his dreams came true. Through those sixty moons he tried to hunt, but Luna wanted to see the desire for blood and the want for righteous violence. Rory simply hunted for duty, to aid his Tribe and Pack, and this did not please the Goddess. She wanted a Warrior that champions her name, a Warrior that seeks triumph for Luna and for Tribe.

In the end of his stubborn ordeal, his Pack pitied Rory in his struggle against his own identity. He was exiled by the Matriarch in hopes that in exile he would find what it would take for him to be a Warrior, what it would take for him to fight and seek glory. He packed his bags and boarded the plane to Los Angeles, City of Angels and City of Dreams, to see if he could find respite in this bustling, rotting, and pulsing heart of a city. Here he seeks his dream, to be an orator and speaker of myths, to seek calm and forgiveness, and perhaps... to seek glory he once never wanted to chase.

[Luminesa]

Konstantin Mikhailov - Lumi

Name: Konstantin Mikhailov

Age: 86 (Chronologically); About 35 (Physically); Born January 1st, 1938

Species, Clan, Class: Human (Mage)

Height: 6’1”

Weight: 170lbs

Appearance:
***Soon to be updated.***

Biography:
Mikhailov's story in itself is not guaranteed. The man generally tells different stories of himself to whoever may ask, depending on what he seeks to achieve from each person. To some, he is a mere human scientist. To others, he is a Mage. To some, he may even be some sort of primordial deity observing humanity. What is known, however, is that he was born on January 1st, 1938. Because Mikhailov happens to exist in several dimensions, while he is dead in one, he is alive in this one, suggesting that concrete information about him may exist in another corner of the multiverse.

This version of Mikhailov was born to Vasily Mikhailov, who late in life finally brought his first son into the world. The cheery-yet-elderly Thyrsus threw himself into the love and care of his firstborn child, as long as he was able to have him in his care. Yet his body eventually could not handle the passing of the years, and the passing of his personal beloved, and so he gave young Konstantin into the hands of relatives after his own death when Konstantin was about nine years old.

The young Mage’s aunt and uncle-who sought to gaslight him into forgetting his kind father’s influence-wanted to raise a powerful child who would pull them out of the suffering of their post-WW2 lives. To this end, they brutalized him, forcing him to work and study for long hours at a secret, exclusive school for budding Mages in St. Petersburg, and credited their abuse to his Awakening at the young age of 10. What actually happened was a miracle, and one only Mikhailov knows in his heart.

Angels. From the moment of his Awakening, when Mikhailov witnessed a vision of an Angel bringing him freedom and salvation after a particularly-frightening beating, he knew that his mind would be on Celestial things. Still a young boy who did not quite understand the weight of Magic, he had himself baptized and given the Sacraments at Trinity Cathedral-where he had his vision of the beautiful Angel and believed that he would one day Ascend to reach her.

At the age of 16, Mikhailov had his first crush-and much like his father, he was suspended from school for harboring feelings toward said student, a boy in his class. He learned to better harness his powers, however, and despite his setbacks he managed to become one of the most intelligent and successful students in his class.

He kept the vision of his childhood, and the distant memory of his loving father, deep in his heart as he prepared to present his research on celestial beings and the order of the universe. From his presentation, which surprised his students due to the depth and obsession of his studies, he earned a scholarship to a university for magically-inclined students in St. Petersburg. He would go on to attend school there, and met the first real love of his life, Katya.

But Katya’s love and loss are a deeply-intertwined topic for the young Mage, and from the point of her death three years later, Mikhailov’s trajectory transformed for the darker. He saw a world so vastly separated from the happiness of celestial beings, and he wanted to close that gap. His research in the coming decades led him to cruel and unspeakable deeds. He also began to work for the KGB as an Agent, as his magical abilities and keen, analytical mind made him excellent for tracking targets and keeping order. Even that job could not keep him in one place, however, as he eventually became disillusioned with that work and left to drown himself in independent research into the Abyss.

Depending of which fragment of his timeline one sees, Mikhailov either died in 1967 due to mysterious circumstances, or he moved to the United States after a suspicious accident in 1971. From there, he became a stateless individual, writing essays and research on the mysterious appearances of heavenly beings. Most dismissed him as crazy, but the world of Mages and the supernatural was well-acquainted with him. When he arrived in Los Angeles in 2001, his prowess as a researcher and a scientist earned him a teaching position on Magic and the Occult at a prestigious university in the city. Here, his restless and burning mind found an active mission-to bring other bright minds to see the reality that was so readily accessible to him behind the veil. Unfortunately, all of this success came with a deep repression of Katya, Vasily, and any other happy visages which had fallen away from him over decades of growing in power.

Finding Lord Silvanus, Alexei, and the supernatural war in Los Angeles has proven to be a truly humbling experience for the proud and cruel Mage. Where he saw an opportunity to continue his independent research, he actually became the hunting dog of an 800-year-old Malkavian Primogen. Where he saw the ability to be the Dark Angel who would pierce the veil, he was instead thrown through the window of the Tremere Prince, Anna, and became the working partner and eventual friend of a member of the Society of Leopold. And where he thought he would find ultimate freedom and ultimate knowledge, he instead found himself bowing to the ability of Clan Ventrue’s Primogen to hold information on a leash. Now as he also trains a young Imbued to better hone her powers and her passions, Mikhailov has unwittingly become a force for good, or as much good as he is willing to spread for the stability of his current home. If he can avoid death-again-perhaps he might actually find salvation this time, and make his father proud.

Personality:
A former KGB Agent and scientist for the USSR, Mikhailov has a hard-as-steel exterior, and an ends-to-a-means mindset. An Obrimos from head to toe, he enjoys power and grand shows of force, and thus he also enjoys being the watchdog of the Malkavian Prince, Silvanus. His darker desires and internal battles force him to continually improve his Magic, while also reminding him of a wicked past for which he seeks repentance. Some of the time.

In reality, however, he is a much more fragmented and repressed being than he would be happy to admit. His charm with people of both sexes makes him a good social partner for outings, and he represents Silvanus’s slim connection to the modern world. By himself, however, Mikhailov is far more comfortable with acquaintances than friends, though recently he has learned to make at least one-the ironically humble, mild-mannered, down-to-earth Inquisitor Alexei Bancroft. He has also made several other friendly allies during his time in Los Angeles, though he struggles with keeping them close or pushing them away.

Romance is a strange and difficult topic for the criminal-turned-heroic Obrimos. Silvanus is his current love, though the Malkavian does not entirely reciprocate his desires for many reasons. Yet Mikhailov sees something else, a troubled soul for whom he almost damned himself decades earlier. Given the opportunity, however, the Obrimos is not afraid to vent his sexual frustrations, either by gunning down one of the Malkavian’s enemies or by flirting with almost any willing adult in his path. He is fully aware of this struggle, and whether he believes he will be able to find healing in himself is something he reserves for God’s knowledge alone.

His father’s existence, presence in his life, and early death are details which bring the Mage a great deal of puzzlement and emotion, despite his attempts to mask such feelings. The family of Vasily Mikhailov failed him greatly, and thus resentment is the common thread that intertwines many of his day-to-day interactions. Yet perhaps someday, he truly will rediscover his father’s genuine good nature and bravery, and why these values meant so much to him…

Arcana:
Forces: xxxxx
Time: xxxx
Space: xxxx
Mind: xxxx
Fate: xxx
Prime: xxx
Life: xxx
Death: xxx
Spirit: x
Matter: x

Abilities:
Talents:
Alertness: xxxx
Athletics: xxxx
Awareness: xxx
Brawl: xxx
Empathy: x
Expression: xx
Intimidation: xxxx
Leadership: xx
Streetwise: xx
Subterfuge: xxxx

Skills:
Animal Ken:
Crafts: xxx
Drive: xxxx
Etiquette: xxx
Firearms: xxxx
Larceny: xx
Melee: xxx
Performance: x
Stealth: xxxx
Survival: xxx

Knowledges:
Academics: xxxx
Computers: xx
Finance: x
Investigation: xxx
Law: x
Medicine: xxxx
Occult: xxxxx
Politics: xx
Science: xxxxx
Technology: xxx

Attributes:
Strength: xxxx
Dexterity: xx
Stamina: xxx
Charisma: xxx
Manipulation: xxxx
Appearance: xxx
Perception: xxx
Intelligence: xxxx
Wits: xx

Weapons:
x2 Makarov Pistols (Legacy weapons)
An AK-47 (Legacy weapon)
Walther Q5 Pistol

[Luminesa]

Updated Paloma Sheet

NationStates Name: Lumi
Character Name: Paloma Maria Lucia Clementina Angelina Dominguez Gallego-Valdez Clark
Goes by: Paloma Clark, Lo, Lolo, or Paloma.
Age: 22; Born June 21st, 2002
Physical Appearance and Description:
Her height is 5’3”, her weight is 136lbs.
Here she is!

Biographical Information:
“Set the lights.”

The message was simple, far too simple. And yet the message also made little sense. She was in her parents’ jewelry shop, one of multiple stores, far too late at night. She was not a robber, she had a reason to be here. The store was a symbol of her family’s wealth and prestige, their own crown jewel so to speak. Her father had arranged these stores to be the epitome of modern art, almost too clean to be admired by normal human eyes.

But her human eyes were not normal.

She used a key to open the casings, and she arranged the necklaces on the table in the shape of something. A huge eye, made with silvery diamond chains, sparkling rings, and sapphires. The strangest night of her life, but all during a full moon. And indeed, the lights were set, and so too was her mind.

She would seek for lights wherever she could go.

Paloma was born the daughter of Wyndam Clark, a luxury jeweler and the co-owner of Clark & Co., and Jimena Gallego-Valdez, a model. The lap of luxury seemed so simple, and yet as her father preferred artwork which was untouchable, so he preferred his personal life as well. Paloma grew up in the glittering, sparkling world of designer products and jewelry, but alone among a sky of decadence.

Much like a diamond, her personality took several facets. Stark politeness and plastered smiles around her family friends, and wild partying and drinking when away from them, making friends among both the rich and the normal.

And she soon sought her own way, preferring not to be a socialite but to be an artist - a tattoo artist. After all, her loneliness caused for her to bubble with a bright imagination that she nurtured alone, and alone she found that her artwork from a young age almost-almost-substituted the need for friends.

But moving away from her family came with its own consequences. Her father wanted to marry her to one of his clients’ sons, a cold-hearted individual with far too much money. Her mother would not defend her in such fights, and so Paloma found herself bruised and battered. Only with help from friends did she manage to sneak away to her own flat and to start her own life.

Now three years into a comfortable life, she found herself back in that jewelry shop. In the jaws of a life of neglect wrapped in chains of silver and gold, and something told her that the light which had always existed in her mind could be real. What is that light is for her to find.

The months which have followed have been a whirlwind. Falling in love with Etienne Saint-Francis, joined the Court of Los Angeles as a member of his household, the embattled Ventrue Primogen of Los Angeles, befriending Alexei and Mikhailov, and suffered the loss of Reginald Stapes along with the rest of that household. Dramatic tensions, emotions, and the aftermath of San Diego have pushed her to improve herself and to determine what she truly wants and needs out of this new life.

Personality:
Cheerful, dutiful, and willful to a fault, Paloma is a force of nature growing into her new role in the Masquerade. On her best days, she is a force of positivity, excited to be alive and to discover how she can be helpful to the world around her. She is a skilled artist, having originally learned tattoo art as her profession, and she weaves her words and her actions according to this romantic mindset. However, she is also inexperienced at living life away from her family, and as she now must work for her place in the echelons of the Janus, she has realized how many practical skills she must know. She is a fast learner, however, and she has proven to be up to the task.

At her worst, however, Paloma is moody, temperamental, and a fierce fighter. She frustrates easily, and is learning to be patient in terms of her development. However, when her anger overwhelms her, she can lash-out or put-up a fight. Alexei’s calm, even temperament makes for an excellent anchor for her disposition, while Mikhailov’s tendency to fuel the flames causes her anxiety and even rage.

In terms of romance, she has her eyes on Etienne, which is a difficult task for almost anyone. But her mind thinks as an artist’s, and she sees part of a painting yet unfinished. Whether or not that painting finishes in her lifetime, or outlives her, she sees her role as protecting and devoting herself to art being completed.

Demeanor: Aspirant
Virtue: Zeal
Edges: Ward, Alarm

Combat Skills
Hand-to-Hand Skill: 2
Knife/Blade Skill: 2
Firearm Skill
-Short Range: 1
-Medium Range: 3
-Long Range: 2

Skills:
- Painting: Expert
- Negotiation: Adept
- Language: Expert (English and Spanish)
- Building/Crafting: Rookie
- Dancing: Adept
- Sneaking: Adept

Abilities:

Talents:

Alertness: xx
Athletics: x
Awareness: xx
Brawl: x
Empathy: xxx
Expression: xx
Intimidation: x
Leadership:
Streetwise:
Subterfuge:

Skills:
Animal Ken:
Crafts: x
Drive:
Etiquette: x
Firearms:
Larceny:
Melee: xx
Performance: xxx
Persuasion: x
Stealth:
Survival: xx

Knowledges:
Academics: x
Computers:
Finance:
Investigation: x
Law:
Medicine:
Occult: xx
Politics:
Science:
Technology: xxx

Physical
(4 points to use at start, up to 3 possible per category as story progresses and 1 point must always be in Conviction. Exception is Conviction which may have up to 8 points as story progresses)
Strength: 2
Speed: 2
Stamina: 2
Conviction Physical Modifier: 2

Mental
Intelligence: 2
Wit: 1
Resolve: 2
Conviction Mental Modifier: 1

[Luminesa]

Alexei Bancroft - Lumi

Name: Alexei Bennett Bancroft

Goes by: Alexei, Alexei Bancroft

Age: 30; Born February 13th, 1994

Physical Appearance and Description:
***To be updated soon!***

Biography:
The uncertain heir to an ancient and tragic Clan was born in a relatively quiet and mundane household, to a Polish-Russian mother, Agnieszka, and an Irish-American father, Conor, in 1994. His mother escaped the USSR and became a ballet teacher at a local studio in the States before her son’s birth, and his father worked in a quiet, secret position which he did not immediately reveal to his wife. After all, the Masquerade needed its secret guardians.

Alexei, a quiet-yet-devoted child, was inquisitive about his father’s work, and his late nights. His mother knew his work was strange, and she tried to hide the truth from her son. She succeeded, until he was 13. On Halloween night, an attack from a Toreador neonate who lured young Alexei out of his house, and Conor’s consecutive killing of the neonate, brought the truth to the eyes of the young teenager. And in him, he felt something else burst and spark in his chest. He did not know this gift’s name, but his father knew. This was True Faith, the power to weaponize one’s Faith into a true sword or shield. And as he privately knew he was dying of cancer, he began to prepare for his son’s future.

After all, in Los Angeles, the Society of Leopold was small but mighty. Run by forces even beyond Conor’s own knowledge, he knew that his own good nature and pure desires outweighed much of the corruption around him. And Alexei, whose heart reflected much of his own father’s virtue, was the perfect replacement.

Alexei’s life pulled ahead like a heavy freight on a small track, fast and frantic and terrifying. When he was 14, Conor Bancroft finally died of cancer of the stomach, and intense sorrow gripped at the boy. His distant relatives were distant, and only his mother knew increments of the future that awaited him. The young man proudly chose to follow in his father’s footsteps, as Conor had desires for him, but at much personal cost.

Alexei’s relationship with the supernatural of Los Angeles has been complicated. His primary goal has always been to protect the Masquerade, and to prevent the deaths of innocents on either side. Many Kindred have found in him Elysium, an unlikely friend, or even a muse. Mortals find him to be a quiet and pleasant person. In fact, Alexei’s own emotional boundaries, several traumatic events, one of which included his own kidnapping, and his desire to see the humanity in Kindred left him to leave his position as an Inquisitor for several years, after a horrendous set of Kindred deaths left him scarred.

But a tumultuous relationship with a Toreador fashion model, Veronica, and the need for his presence in Los Angeles drew him back. Strange friends in strange places-the Mage Konstantin Mikhailov, the recently-Imbued Paloma, the Garou pack leader Connor, the Ventrue Primogen Etienne, the giant Jonah, and his Garou lover Morri-have all summoned him to assist in saving Los Angeles from itself, to varying degrees of success. And then his relationship with Silvanus, his uncle of many generations and the Malkavian Regent of Los Angeles, leaves many questions for his own future.

Personality:
Left to himself, Alexei is phlegmatic to a fault. He is happy to float through life, especially as a professor of Church History at Loyola-Marymount during the day. Of course, given his life’s twists and turns, he must soldier through life as an independent Inquisitor, one abandoned by his father’s companions and who has had to find his own path. To this end, Alexei stands as a firm defense against chaos and corruption, and as a fearless friend who is happy to protect the less fortunate.

Alexei makes friends and companions easily. The numerous individuals who have gravitated to or near him over his years as an Inquisitor have allowed for him to network in even the darkest of places. While he lacks in his friend Mikhailov’s charisma, he is polite and understanding of etiquette, and is content to listen with an empathetic heart to the needs of those who approach him. Even when his temper or the world gets the best of him, he largely responds with sarcasm and a stiff-upper lip, unless he is truly overwhelmed.

The young Inquisitor would never admit to it outright, but his ideals on romance have a deep connection with his work. He very much represses and keeps his feelings to himself when possible, but he believes in the hidden beauty of the world, and has trouble keeping away from beautiful people. His complicated views about his body have also brought him to many strange places, in and out of strange relationships, and toward his current path involving a wife and daughter. His weaknesses are definitely redheads, blondes, and Toreadors.

True Faith: 5

Abilities:
Abilities:
Talents:
Alertness: xxxx
Athletics: xxx
Awareness: xxxx
Brawl: xx
Empathy: xxxx
Expression: xx
Intimidation: xxx
Leadership: xxx
Streetwise: xx
Subterfuge: x

Skills:
Animal Ken: x
Crafts: xx
Drive: xxx
Etiquette: xxxx
Firearms: x
Larceny:
Melee: xx
Performance: xxx
Stealth: xxxx
Survival: xxxx

Knowledges:
Academics: xxxx
Computers: x
Finance:
Investigation: xxx
Law: x
Medicine: x
Occult: xxxxx
Politics: xxx
Science: x
Technology: xx


Attributes:
Physical
Strength: 3
Speed: 4
Stamina: 4

Mental
Intelligence: 4
Wit: 3
Resolve: 5

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Name: Concobhar Alasdrann Ó Domhnaill / Connor Alexander O'Donell
Birthdate and Age: October 30th, 1991
Species: Garou
Height: 215cm / 7 ft
Weight: 120 Kg / 264 pounds
Occupation:
Description or Image:
Here, since the img thing isn't working;

Character Biography (at least two paragraphs):

"One thing you probably need to understand, friend. If I did not know the righteousness of the Fianna's ways in this world and how they guard their love for Gaia close to their chest, I'd bet my mother's ass that Connor was engineered somewhere in a lab." - Caitlyn, on Connor.

Connor Alexander O'Donell (or Concobhar Alasdrann Ó Domhnaill), born in Dublin to an Dean and Catherine O'Donnell, an Irish Army officer and an English teacher with mixed roots from Scotland, he grew amidst the Kinfolk of the Fianna from an early age. His dad, a Garou, took positions that kept him away from too many unanswered questions, quickly shifting to more local roles in the Army to help the fostering of his son; his mom, someone knowledgeable about the Litany and the traditions that the protectors of Gaia had, nurtured a deep worry and hope for her son.

His upbringing years were quite normal: despite being the only child of the couple, an extended family made by those of wordly and otherworldly affairs kept their son occupied for a while. During school, it was quite clear that the O'Donnell's kid physicality would soon be one of his main assets, with Connor becoming a young athlete during his later teenage years, engaging in activities such as the gentlemanly art of boxing, and the not so gentlemanly arts of wrestling and judo as means to exhaust his ever-growing energy.

By 18 years of age, it was clear that Connor wouldn't follow his father's footsteps in the army: not only his height as a hulking man over 2 meters would hinder his possibilities in the Defense Force itself, as the ever-growing possibility of being a Garou loomed over him. Dedicating himself to the apprenticeship of other crafts, such as works in metal and the trades of a mechanic (and a bit of blacksmithing on the side), he seemed a bit lost on life.

Until the First Change came.

Wild and nothing short of a herculean task, it would later be a proper definition of Connor's behavior: a wild, ever-growing in aggressiveness gave him access to the war-form of his people, and "quickly" soothed into something else entirely: an ecstasy experienced through growls and howls that de-escalated into bursts of laugh. Now he had a purpose.

"A world-traveling Connor is nothing short of a world-traveling menace." - Michael O'Hara, one of the older members of the Grandchildren back at Connor's admittance.

Fostered by his father and relatives, Connor took the choice of engaging with the Grandchildren of Fionn: the possibility of traveling around the world caught his lustful and adventurous gaze. With occasional support to the Brotherhood of Herne and definitely not-so occasional engagement with Vampires, the Ahroun's naturally shocking constitution and the aid of those of bardic inclination in his entourage built with songs and tales a reputation that was backed up by fierce fighting. In each festivity, the warrior Garou would return bigger: physically, mentally and in fame.

With an unsettling hunger for the world, he could enlist doings to rival those who seemed to revel in battle: the elusiveness behind the plan that bombed an Elysium filled with Toreadores in Spain; the descent into madness to hunt a Malkavian through the Black Forest; the hunt-and-prey game of a Gangrel amidst the wide Mongolian plains and the clash that scarred his body with a Tzimisce in places with more consonants than vowels in its name, along with a brutal brawl with a Silver Fang over a fair lady had his fingerprints and claw marks all over them. Yet not only battles are the materials you need to build a warrior: he was also fondly remembered his his hospitality towards the Striders, the patience with the Stargazers' speech and a certain compassion towards the Bone Gnawers.

Even if the bards and wise men of his tribe are usually the ones you call upon in times of establishment in a new location, the United States - and even more, Los Angeles - was a different case altogether. While the Kindred had a firm hand, the native Garou scraped for more power and even the Garou who couldn't understand the particularities of the Wyld and the Weave could sense the magic shifting in the American air. Only a man with an insane mind could even attempt to set foot and establish a stronghold of Gaia in the theater of disputes, and Connor was, more than once, described as insane.

Statistics

Strengths: Strength, Stamina, Perception

Weakness: Manipulation, Knowledge, Dexterity

Weapons Proficiencies: Short Range (such as pistols and blades), Middles Range (such as semiautomatic rifles and LMGs).

Additional Skills (What are 3-5 things your character is really good at outside of fighting? Rank from Beginner to Adept for each.):

Blacksmithing (Adept)
Mechanics and Repairing (Adept)
Driving (Average)
Brewing (Beginner to Average)


Breed: Garou

Demeanor: Survivor

Auspice: Ahroun

Tribe: Fianna

Pack Name:

Pack Totem:

Gifts (Start with up to 3.):

• Resist Toxin
• Persuasion
• Brew
• Howl of the Banshee
• Song of the Dire
• Troll's Bridge
• Balor's Gaze
• Woadling
• Ley Lines
• Warp Spasm
• Sense the Unnatural
• Faerie Kin

Gnosis (1-4): 4

[Oblivion2]

Name: Steals-the-Eggs or Ricardo Santos
Birthdate and Age: August 18th 1993 (31)
Species (Vampire, Garou, Human, Changeling, Promethean): Mokole (Were-Crocodile)
Height: 6'2
Weight: 235 lbs
Occupation: Animal Wrangler
Description or Image: Yellow eyes, powerful build, long brown hair generally in braids, tanned flesh. Homid Form Archid Form
Character Biography (at least two paragraphs):

Born under the Sign of the Rising Sun in the wallows of Florida, Steals-the-Eggs always showed an inclination towards solving problems with an application of sideways cunning or outright might. Despite being born a Suchid, an American Crocodile, Steals-The-Eggs has always carried something of a fascination with the culture of the human world. Taking a Homid form for himself with a blended mix of Cuban features and has made many attempts to learn some of the basics of human culture.

Steals-the-Eggs is often used as a warrior and investigator against the Wyrm and its agents for his clutch- a grouping of fellow Mokole and Kin representing as many Auspices as possible. His knowledge of the mortal world allows him to move about without too many brows being raised. However, life would change for the shapeshifter after Agents of the Wyrm stole from his clutch a young child, likely to continue the detestable work of creating mockery breeds. Steals-the-Eggs intends to move through LA like a force of nature, letting none stop him- be they the ever-distrusted Garou, Agents of the Wyrm, or even unassuming humans.

Breed: Piasa (American Crocodile)
Demeanor: Inquisitive
Auspice: The Rising Sun
Stream: Mokole-Mbembe
Clutch Name: Plated Ones
Clutch Totem: Dragon
Gifts (Discussed with OP, starting with 5): Sense Wyrm, Silver Claws, Waxwork Monster, Dragonfear, Dragon's Breath
Gnosis (1-4): 4

Statistics

Attributes:
Strength 4
Stamina 4
Dexterity 2

Intelligence 2
Wits 3
Perception 3

Charisma 2
Manipulation 1
Appearance 3

Traits:
Brawl 4
Athletics 3
Aware 3
Intimidate 2
Streetwise 1

Skills:
Animal Ken 2
Firearms 1
Survival 3
Stealth 3

Knowledges:
Investigation 2
Occult 2
Computers 1

[Oblivion2]

For OP approval, a revamped Etienne App after his Diablerie of the Sabbat Elder, Bishop Borja.

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

Demeanor: Calculating
Sire: Guillermo Torres
Generation: 10th (8th diablerized)
Blood Potency: 3
Clan: Venture
Bloodline: N/A
Age: 212
Birthdate: May 25th 1812

Physical

Strength: 3
Dexterity: 3
Stamina: 3

Social
Charisma: 5
Manipulation: 4
Appearance: 2

Knowledge
Perception: 2
Intelligence: 4
Wit: 3

Talents:
Alertness 2
Intimidate 3
Leadership 3
Brawl 1


Skills
Etiquette: 3
Melee: 4
Drive: 2
Performance: 3
Stealth: 1


Abilities
Finance: 3
Academics (Law): 2
Politics: 2
Technology: 1
Computers: 1

Disciplines: Dominate 4, Presence 2, Fortitude 2, Protean 1, Potence 2, Obtenebration 3, Obfuscate 2

[Deminis]

Okay so, I have a character I beleive I could bring I to this. He is a vampire, only some 90-120 years old. He was reraised by a disowned flesh crafter and learned the arts of theirs. He then used those skills to restore is arm, which had been crippled in a steam engine incident. The day of his incident he is "saved" by the fleshcrafter.

He is technically part cyborg with his arm, or clockwork hand at best.

Idk if this would count as a standard vampire. I have to find the papers so I can transcribe and edit it for the age. Last time I played it was in the 2040s XD

[Morrdh]

Okay so, I have a character I beleive I could bring I to this. He is a vampire, only some 90-120 years old. He was reraised by a disowned flesh crafter and learned the arts of theirs. He then used those skills to restore is arm, which had been crippled in a steam engine incident. The day of his incident he is "saved" by the fleshcrafter.

He is technically part cyborg with his arm, or clockwork hand at best.

Idk if this would count as a standard vampire. I have to find the papers so I can transcribe and edit it for the age. Last time I played it was in the 2040s XD

Long as you understand that a.) we're moving onto a new tread which is set in the modern era and b.) it's the old/classic World of Darkness setting.

[Imperialisium]

hmmmmm

Modern Nights.

[Luminesa]

hmmmmm

Modern Nights.

OP and I have a consensus that you are not allowed to rejoin this RP.

[Imperialisium]

hmmmmm

Modern Nights.

OP and I have a consensus that you are not allowed to rejoin this RP.

Technically, I’d be joining for the first time. Given this isn’t the RP I started.

But, I figured given my national background this would be the case. Oh well. I tried.

[Parcia]

Hey ya'll, glad to see some of the old Gang are still at it.


I know I tagged ages ago, but life and several work changes have taken up most of my time, until recently.


If ya'll are still willing to humor me, I'd love to get back in to this setting with a fresh OC and some new ideas.

[Chia Dal]

Name:
Sebastian Vólkov

Birthdate and Age:
January 1st, 1855 (Age at Embrace: 33) — appears mid-30s
True age in 1888: 33 years dead, but 66 by mortal reckoning

Species:
Vampire (Clan: Ventrue)

Height:
6'2"

Weight:
185 lbs

Occupation:
Foreign-born aristocrat, industrial patron, and clandestine Kindred emissary of the Ventrue clan

Description or Image:
Sebastian is tall, elegant, and perfectly groomed—his angular Slavic features are striking and coldly beautiful. His dark hair is always slicked back, eyes an unnatural steel-blue that gleam under gaslight. He dresses impeccably in high-collared coats, silk cravats, and gloves, with a cane more for fashion than function—its silver head carved into a roaring lion. His voice is calm, deliberate, and utterly unflappable, with a faint Russian accent softened by decades among English elites.

Character Biography:
Born in the waning days of Tsarist nobility, Sebastian Vólkov was the son of a lesser boyar family clinging to influence amid industrial upheaval. Educated in Vienna and London, fluent in six languages by age twenty, Sebastian was marked early for both brilliance and arrogance. He mingled among the salons of power with nobles, philosophers, and eventually occultists. His curiosity about death and the soul became an obsession—a fascination that drew the attention of an ancient Ventrue Methuselah. On a bitter New Year’s Eve in 1888, Sebastian was Embraced beneath the black dome of St. Basil’s Cathedral, his mortal life quietly erased.

London, however, would become his true domain.

Sent west as an emissary to the powerful Ventrue primogen of Britain, Sebastian quickly entrenched himself among London’s elite. Under the guise of a reclusive but influential investor in rail and gas companies, he began amassing power and pawns alike. His presence is always “invited” at elite dinners, Parliament galleries, and backroom dealings. He sees the Empire’s bureaucracy as a chessboard—and he rarely loses.

Yet beneath the polish lies something else. Sebastian is deeply disturbed by the Ripper killings—not out of sympathy for mortals, but because the savagery is too familiar, too chaotic, and untraceable by Clan law. The Masquerade is threatened, and Sebastian suspects something darker than mere mortals is at play. His investigations take him into Whitechapel’s shadows, where Sabbat whispers echo, and older, stranger horrors may stir.

He is not merely a player of power games—he is now a hunter in the fog.

[Morrdh]

Name:
Sebastian Vólkov

Birthdate and Age:
January 1st, 1855 (Age at Embrace: 33) — appears mid-30s
True age in 1888: 33 years dead, but 66 by mortal reckoning

Species:
Vampire (Clan: Ventrue)

Height:
6'2"

Weight:
185 lbs

Occupation:
Foreign-born aristocrat, industrial patron, and clandestine Kindred emissary of the Ventrue clan

Description or Image:
Sebastian is tall, elegant, and perfectly groomed—his angular Slavic features are striking and coldly beautiful. His dark hair is always slicked back, eyes an unnatural steel-blue that gleam under gaslight. He dresses impeccably in high-collared coats, silk cravats, and gloves, with a cane more for fashion than function—its silver head carved into a roaring lion. His voice is calm, deliberate, and utterly unflappable, with a faint Russian accent softened by decades among English elites.

Character Biography:
Born in the waning days of Tsarist nobility, Sebastian Vólkov was the son of a lesser boyar family clinging to influence amid industrial upheaval. Educated in Vienna and London, fluent in six languages by age twenty, Sebastian was marked early for both brilliance and arrogance. He mingled among the salons of power with nobles, philosophers, and eventually occultists. His curiosity about death and the soul became an obsession—a fascination that drew the attention of an ancient Ventrue Methuselah. On a bitter New Year’s Eve in 1888, Sebastian was Embraced beneath the black dome of St. Basil’s Cathedral, his mortal life quietly erased.

London, however, would become his true domain.

Sent west as an emissary to the powerful Ventrue primogen of Britain, Sebastian quickly entrenched himself among London’s elite. Under the guise of a reclusive but influential investor in rail and gas companies, he began amassing power and pawns alike. His presence is always “invited” at elite dinners, Parliament galleries, and backroom dealings. He sees the Empire’s bureaucracy as a chessboard—and he rarely loses.

Yet beneath the polish lies something else. Sebastian is deeply disturbed by the Ripper killings—not out of sympathy for mortals, but because the savagery is too familiar, too chaotic, and untraceable by Clan law. The Masquerade is threatened, and Sebastian suspects something darker than mere mortals is at play. His investigations take him into Whitechapel’s shadows, where Sabbat whispers echo, and older, stranger horrors may stir.

He is not merely a player of power games—he is now a hunter in the fog.

Thanks for the interest, but the Victorian Nights RP has ended for the time being though another may start up at some point in the future.

We have a Modern Nights RP currently running, feel free to have a look at that one and ask questions.