"Moya koroleva!" Misha said, walking into the room, oblivious. "You should have SEEN how Misha beat Harold at Dance game, ya! I had heem in a haAAA-??" she stopped dead, her face went from smiles to frowns slowly, as if stumbling into a very awkward situation.

"What..ees thees...?" she growled, her brow very furrowed.

Victor was roused from his sleep by the sudden arrival of Misha, who didn't seem to expecting this. He gently taps Alessandra's face to wake her up. "Hey, I'm not intruding on you and Misha by cuddling with you, am I?"

Misha takes a few more steps forward to make sure what she was seeing was indeed what she was seeing. Yup. It was. She balled her fists up tight and if skin could make a sound of tension as it the muscle underneath it strained to keep contained, that's the sound that was hear by the bed - like leather groaning or being pulled, stretched. She looked back and forth between Victor and Aless, her face one of shock, uncertainty, and most alarming, anger. 

Alessandra groaned a bit being tapped on the cheek, batting away Victor's hand as her eyes fluttered open. She lifted her head from the pillow as her eyes focused on Misha in front of her, practically seething at the sight of her with Victor. In all of her years of knowing Misha, there were very few times she saw the acheronian angry, but when she was... "Misha, my dear, is this an issue?" She questions to her softly, sitting up a bit from her place on the bed. "I offered him some well needed cuddles after everything he has been through, but if this is a problem, then I hope this could be talked out before you threaten to behead him... or something... You could even join in? I could even message Sorrin and Alana as well, have a whole cuddle pile in my bed!" She sounds hopeful and gives Misha a little pout and a pair of puppy dog eyes to hopefully dissuade her in doing something bad. "You do know how much I love cuddle piles with all of my lovelies, don't you?"

"You.." Misha rumbled between clentched teeth. "..are having a cuddle session.." she took a moment to close her eyes and get her anger under control. It took a few minutes, like watching a science experiment about to blow. "..and didn't invite ME??" she gave a very angerous hurt look, and folded her arms. She dropped the act and smiled. "How very rude." she said plainly, as if it was very obvious.

It was at the moment both of them realized Misha was totally ******* around. Suckers.

Victor let out a sigh of relief, like he had just successfully defused a bomb before its timer hit zero. "For a second you had me thinking that this was about to be some True Crime thing where you kill us in a jealous rage. But, if everything is okay, you can join in, if you wish." He motions with his arms as he speaks, offering her a spot that would either put her behind Victor as the big spoon or in front of Alessandra as the little spoon. "We could be like a cuddle sandwich."

Hm. Do I want to be beeg spoon or leetle spoon? Misha slipped in front of Aless this time. While Aless loved to be in Misha's arms, tonight was going to be a little different. She pressed snugly in front of her and let Aless wrap her hands around Misha - any way she wanted - and to be honest, feeling Aless's lips against the back of her neck made Misha wiggle in delight.

Once Alessandra gets nice and situated with her arms around Misha, Victor wraps his arms gently around her waist and gives her a small kiss on the back of the neck before wishing the two of them goodnight and closing his eyes. Victor felt extra at peace now that he was in the company of two people who were near and dear to his heart and he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep in no time at all.

Locked deep away in the caverns of Misha's mind were the memories of her old life suppressed by the Beast.

The memories belonged to it, now. There was no sense in allowing her to enjoy them, to learn from them, to remember them.

She was something else now, and something deep inside her wanted control. Wanted more control. The Archeronian was strong, no doubt, but her mind was weak, easily dominated, easily manipulated.

Easily conquered.

The Beast was stronger. Supernatural. So for another night, it kept those memories hidden. Once again it showed her who is boss.

So Misha's sleep was peaceful and dream free. Very dream free. We don't need those millennia of experiences surfacing and none of those stupid visions to distract her from the Blood. No. Not anymore. 

Like a prisoner, Misha's buried memories screamed in frustration and rage.

And, as always, Misha could not hear them.

THE FALL OF LONDON CHRONICLE WILL BEGIN MONDAY THE 24TH

Ryder Evans at your service, my dear. 

Born and 'raised' in Newcastle,  I was embraced by Marius a few centuries or so ago. To be frank, I lost count after the first 10. Who really needs a count when you live eternally? Marius was quick to accept me despite my, behavioral issues. In all honesty, I've never been one to abide by the rules. So, to Marius's dismay, I continue to be in the light, the public's eye. Although 'light' is figurative, for obvious reasons. I do, however, hold my status. My connections. I believe this to be my appeal. After all, what's a cult without someone to convert others? I, of course, have my own selfish reasons. The government is a pain. Both mortally and Eternally. And I suppose this cult could help me... even the odds? 

Many are unsure about my legitimacy, my status in my clan, my loyalty. And in my opinion, let them question it. I am confident in my abilities and find myself seeking other company. I continue to prove them wrong despite their doubts. I am powerful despite being alone. Few of the reasons I have not spoken in contact to Marius since the day I left his castle. One does not offer up their memories without a purpose. A sense of loyalty. They doubt me. My use. And yet, here I am. A loyal member of the Mithraic Mysteries. And as I drift in the endless of Torpor, I only hope I am not the only one worthy. 

I await my ascension. My rebirth. 

I await my awakening. 

VAMPIRE 5th EDITION: THE FALL OF LONDON

CHAPTER ONE - A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
SCENE ONE - A RUDE AWAKENING

You are all Heralds of the Sun, elite members of the Cult of Mithras - one of the many cults created by the fourth generation vampire who ruled London for almost two thousand years. Long ago, around the era of World War 2, you volunteered to enter Torpor until such a time that you would be needed again. The manner of your incarceration involved a ritual of Blood Sorcery intended to prevent an accidental or unplanned awakening. You slept in a dreamless slumber. The first sensation you can describe as you slowly awake is unrelenting hunger. For Blood.

Your eyes flutter open. You can feel the rich taste of blood in your mouths, followed by the uncomfortable realization that you are lying horizontally and strapped to a table. As your vision starts to return, you realize you are being fed blood from a ceramic goblet by a bald man with ebony black skin. He wears a similarly plain black button-up shirt, trousers and shoes. As the man pours blood from the goblet, he mutters something quietly and reverently in Latin.

As you refocus and take in your surroundings you all notice that, aside from each other, the metal tables you are strapped to, and the man waking you all up, there is very little else of interest in the room. The walls are whitewashed breezeblocks, and the floor and high ceiling are concrete. A large reinforced metal door opened ajar marks the only exit from this room. The clothes you are wearing are rags pitted heavily with dirt and mildew. Your hair is matted, and there is dirt encrusted under your fingernails.

The blood given to you to drink is enough to wake you from Torpor - and while exceptionally tasty - there is not much of it. Just enough to whet your appetite. Your mind and senses return shortly, and soon your facilities are all under your control once more - but you all are extremely hungry. You are not gagged and are free to speak. 

MECHANICS:
- You have risen from voluntary Torpor, finally, after an undetermined about of time. While you know you entered willingly into such a state around World War 2, you do not know what year it is, or how long you have been asleep. Keep this in mind as you role-play this scene. Your Hunger level begins now at 4.
- What is this? What is happening? Some of these questions might be answered by rolling the pool below and beating certain DVs. The more margins of success yield additional information. Pool: Intelligence + Occult DV2/DV4: ????? 

Connor didn't know what kind of blood was being poured in his mouth, only that it tasted good and was enough to get the Beast to calm down enough for him to regain control of his senses. And while he was curious about what kind of blood it was, it wasn't the most pressing question on his mind. "Where am I?" He said in a Texas accent. "Why am I strapped to this table? Who are you?" He asked the man in the button-up, but also the four other vampires who were strapped down with him.

Olivia was never a peppy person when she was awoken, and even resting for some odd years, she would still be a grumpy person, especially now since the beast deep within her was screaming at her to get some more blood in her system. Not to mention she felt disgusting in whatever garbs she had on and wanted nothing more than a hot bath drawn for her to rid herself of this filth. She sturs with a groan and tries getting up, but her bonds keep her in place, but it doesn't stop her from trying again all the while trying to silently figure out what was going on, even if it took a lot out of her to do so.

(Failure. Margin 1 missing success)

She lays back again and mutters, "****."

Waking up, Nilrem's mind was filled with blood before his mouth was, and it hurt. Jumbled messes of visions, voices, spirits, all screaming at him like a ball of tangled yarn. His mind and body were so hungry. "ShutupshutupshutupSHUTUPSHUTUP! SHUT THE HELL UP!" He immediately starts foaming at the mouth and thrashing in his bindings, his eyes popping open as his head twitches from side to side, as if staring at people not there. Letting out a banshee-like scream, he strains against his binds biting and clawing at the table, trying to free himself. Trying to shut up the voices and visions that are drowning him. At some point, he starts cursing in Arabic, "Kuna samitana lak yahtaza al'arwaha! sawf 'amzaq nufusuk wa'aleank fi 'aemaq kli ma takhafuh min aljahim watamaziq fi kli ma tahibuh hataa tubki damak min jithatika!" To those who catch glimpses of it, his eyes, while bloodshot and crazed, do seem to glow with power.

Ryder stretches and strains against his bonds when he awakens, hungrilly accepting the blood as it enters his mouth. His mind was numb for a few minutes before he opened his eyes, squinting slightly. After a moment he speaks with a calming British accent. "Where are my glasses? How long have I been out? Wh... what am I wearing?" After another moment he strains the bonds again. "I would appreciate being let go at the soonest convenience. " He almost internally cringes at the way his body feels, matted, dusty, dirty, and weak. Not to mention the smell this room had with the five of them together. 

Connor looked over at Nilrem as he had a hissy fit on the table. Then he looked at Ryder, Olivia, and Gabriella. His memory of their names came back to him as the time passed. "I think that Nilrem might need a little bit to calm down before you untie him, but the rest of us would like to be let go. We could use a shower, something to eat. Maybe some new clothes."

“Kh... Did I have to get strapped next to the crazy one?” Olivia groans in annoyance. “Let us out other than him and we’ll be good... and get me some blood bags will you? I’m starving here!”

Mmmm. Darkness. Gabriella loved it. Lived in it. Wanted to be one with it. Drown in the Abyss, learning everything there was to know about it. Swim in it, bend it to her will.

Slowly, conscious returned. The warm taste of delicious blood. It was enough to startle her away, and almost immediately she struggled against her bonds, wanting more. A bald man pouring blood into her mouth. She drank. It was barely enough to keep the Beast at bay. She looked around. Was it time? Yes. She was a Herald. Of course. Something has happened. Mithras need us again. 

Connor: The vampire pouring blood into your mouth pauses just a moment to speak. "Be still, I am Kindred. My name is Adelino of the Brujah. Please. Be still. The straps - it is for your protection. All of your questions will be answered."

Olivia: Adelino comes over to you. "I am an initiate of the Cult of Mithras. Please be still. You all have been asleep for a long time. Try to rest. Soon, you will all feed."

Nilrem: You mind goes completely feral, thinking nothing but your Hunger, the Blood momentarily forcing a hunger compulsion in you - turning you into a monster. Adelino commands someone nearby. "Hold him down! Watch the bonds! Feed him more! Quicky!" You can feel people holding you down, blood being forced into you. It's a messy ordeal, but eventually it's enough - the Beast heels and you eventually relax. 

Ryder: Adelino, sweating and messy from the ordeal with Nilrem, explains to you, "You all have been in Torpor for seventy years. The year is 2012. I will let you out shortly, first we must take care of the hunger, yes."

So. They all survived. All of them. The situation must be dire. A single light source above shone on all of us. While Gabriella lay still, looking up, waiting to be unlatched, her stomach ached with Hunger - a starving hunger. Her shadow, cast from the light above, mimicked her form but..not exactly. It's like it had a mind of it's own - ever so subtlety.   

Gabriella: "Adelino, release us - I command you. I wish to see my Brothers and Sisters." Gabriella said in a Spanish accent. 

"Yes, as you wish. We were just making sure everyone was in control. I shall do so now." Adelino responded.

You are unlatched and free to move. Still ravenously hungry, Adelino does his best to carefully and swiftly help you all up and usher you into the next room.

The room you are in is a large rectangular edifice of concrete, brick, and steel. "Come." he says. "Sustenance awaits."

Gabriella slowly sat up. Connor. Olivia. Ryder. Nilrem. They were all here. They all survived. She could feel the blood she drank run down her veins, revitalizing her, but she wanted more. It was almost overpowering.

"Once more we arise to serve the Master, my fellow Heralds." she said, proudly to them. "Praise the Mithriac Ministries."