REBLOG IF YOURE A VAMPIRE CHRONICLES ROLEPLAYER

"Isn’t it some how against Talamascan core beliefs, to charge someone to retain their own possessions? Incroyable! I don’t believe this. Lestat purchased it for me before I was turned."

“It’s ‘against Talamascan core beliefs’ ‘ta return things we’ve collected from you blood suckers. If I’m gonna risk my ass I might as well get paid fer it. Err… Wait. Did’ya say Lestat?”

"I understand now. Heh, it makes sense. Why didn’t you say that in the first place. How much do you charge? It’s a violin from the late 19th century. Yes, I said Lestat Monsieur."

“Lestat? As in the Lestat? Blood ‘ell” he laughed, his hand to his head. “‘Yer not Nicolas, I know that fer sure. But that means—” He pointed both of his hands at him then stumbled back, laughing ecstatically. 

“If them up top knew I was talkin’ t’ya they’d blow their tops! Fuck… This is brilliant! Can I have yer autograph? I mean, fuck… Yeah, I’ll get yer violin. No charge! Wow…” he breathed, running a hand back through his dark hair then down over his stubble-covered face.

Antoine watched the surly man’s composure turn. He laughed at the mortal in delight, putting his hand out to shake the man. 

“Monsieur! Please, let me pay for your troubles. No need for my autograph, I am no one really.”

“No, really. I’s an ‘ona t’get your violin. It’ll just take a bit’a time, t’be ‘onest” he admitted, scratching his head and running his fingers through his hair once more. “The Talamasca’s been tighten’ their ranks recently. Tryin’ ‘ta keep betta’ track ‘a their members an’ tha like. Don’t wan’ no one runnin’ off wit’ their secrets. Plus I’m mostly a digital man, y’see” he said, raising the bulky laptop bag that hung against his hip. “An’ if it’s not in central storage, I don’ know if I’ll be able’ta do anyfin’ at all. If I try t’get it transferred they’ll cath me for shor.”

Jamie crossed his arms as he looked over the other man, trying to sort through his thoughts. “Let me get a good look, okay? I can usually find jus’ about anyfin’. Just-- An autograph, please. I got’a collection goin’. Doin’ up a propa’ family tree. Please. I’d jus’ love it.”

Honestly, I’m in hiding. I… I just wanted to check that you were ok. You are, aren’t you?

I’m brilliant. Fantastic. Never been better. Just as long as the toffs up top don’t pay any mind t’what I’m up to, I’m just fine. And really, as dusty as that lot is, they’d rather be stickin’ their noses inta other’s business than dealin’ with computers an’ th’like.

Hiding? Bloody ‘ell… Is there anythin’ I can do t’ ‘elp? I’m a pretty good forger, if I say so meself, and I can ‘ide just about anyone’s digital trail. Y’seemed like a nice kid. I wouldn’ wan’ta see anythin’ bad ‘appen t’ya.

I’m glad you’re alright though! You’ve been very kind to me and a good friend and that means alot. So… thank you. I… I don’t know if there is much that you can do for me. Though I… I should like to know just how much information they have on me… I couldn’t possibly expect you to help me with that though.

Why not? I’m not afraid’a them. Well... I am, but tha’s beside tha point. As long as it’s digital I should be able t’track yer information down an’ ‘ide my trail, but if they’ve still got it in notes, I can’t ‘elp you.

What ‘appened anyway? Why are you so afraid of ‘em? What did they do t’you?

"Isn’t it some how against Talamascan core beliefs, to charge someone to retain their own possessions? Incroyable! I don’t believe this. Lestat purchased it for me before I was turned."

“It’s ‘against Talamascan core beliefs’ ‘ta return things we’ve collected from you blood suckers. If I’m gonna risk my ass I might as well get paid fer it. Err… Wait. Did’ya say Lestat?”

"I understand now. Heh, it makes sense. Why didn’t you say that in the first place. How much do you charge? It’s a violin from the late 19th century. Yes, I said Lestat Monsieur."

“Lestat? As in the Lestat? Blood ‘ell” he laughed, his hand to his head. “‘Yer not Nicolas, I know that fer sure. But that means--” He pointed both of his hands at him then stumbled back, laughing ecstatically. 

“If them up top knew I was talkin’ t’ya they’d blow their tops! Fuck... This is brilliant! Can I have yer autograph? I mean, fuck... Yeah, I’ll get yer violin. No charge! Wow...” he breathed, running a hand back through his dark hair then down over his stubble-covered face.

Honestly, I’m in hiding. I… I just wanted to check that you were ok. You are, aren’t you?

I’m brilliant. Fantastic. Never been better. Just as long as the toffs up top don’t pay any mind t’what I’m up to, I’m just fine. And really, as dusty as that lot is, they’d rather be stickin’ their noses inta other’s business than dealin’ with computers an’ th’like.

Hiding? Bloody ‘ell... Is there anythin’ I can do t’ ‘elp? I’m a pretty good forger, if I say so meself, and I can ‘ide just about anyone’s digital trail. Y’seemed like a nice kid. I wouldn’ wan’ta see anythin’ bad ‘appen t’ya.

"Isn’t it some how against Talamascan core beliefs, to charge someone to retain their own possessions? Incroyable! I don’t believe this. Lestat purchased it for me before I was turned."

“It’s ‘against Talamascan core beliefs’ ‘ta return things we’ve collected from you blood suckers. If I’m gonna risk my ass I might as well get paid fer it. Err... Wait. Did’ya say Lestat?”

                    Ｙｏｕ ｊｕｓｔ ｈａｖｅ ｔｏ ｔｒｕｓｔ

                                          ｙｏｕｒ ｏｗｎ ｍａｄｎｅｓｓ…

                        { i. }              { ii. }               { iii. }               { iv. }

Unexpected Prankster

It was so unlike him, really, to sneak into any mortal’s rooms. Yet he found himself in the archives of the Talamasca over and over again, commiting mischief that was so uncharacteristic of him that he had a boyish pleasure in knowing that no one would suspect the roman scholar to be the one behind tasteless doodles, rough sketches and pages of old diaries left behind on the archiver’s desk overnight. Sometimes he even wrote latin jokes or Catullus’ poems down on the board for his own amusement. 

That night, he dropped the idea of writing down catullus’ famous Vos pedicabo somewhere where everyone would see it. After reading about it in Lestat’s books he couldn’t help himself but try it out as well. And now he was sitting in the office of one of their members who seemed to be in a deep slumber- and Marius sat down on his chair boldly and took the notebook and flipped to an empty page to start sketching with the next pen he found on the desk. 

A nice little present for the morning- a little doodle by the grandmaster of art among vampires, one could say. 

The room in the London Motherhouse would have seemed remarkably large, more like a library than any sort of office, if it were not for the rows upon rows of shelves, drawers, and all manners of storage, as well as books and miscellaneous items. In the middle of it all, Jamie had managed to cut himself off even further by a ring of desks, each of which was piled with various bits of technology: computers, laptops, scanners, cameras, microscopes, etc, etc. He also seemed to have a rather extensive collection of teacups and takeout containers, each in various states of emptiness and decomposition.

Despite the various objects that were scattered around his work space, projects and assignments awaiting completion, Jamie had leaned himself rather precarious back in his chair, put his feet up on one of the desks, and promptly fell asleep with a rather large, old, leather-bound book over his face and headphones over his ears. This was certainly not a new occurrence. In fact, he had gained quite the reputation amongst his colleagues for such behaviour. He knew very well that most of them looked down upon much of what he did, as well as much of who he was, but he had stopped caring a long time ago (or so he had told himself). Most of the old codgers couldn't tell the difference between a mouse and a modem, and their entire archive needed digital preservation. This gave him a certain amount of not only freedom, but job security. They needed him.

Still, a part of him hated being cooped away amongst the stacks. He knew every story by heart and could name most of the eldest and most powerful beings that walked this world, and yet he had never once seen one outside of images they had stored. He desperately wanted just one chance to prove himself useful in 'the field'.

When he began to notice strange things about the archives, it was no surprise that the others did not believe him. In fact, at first he believed that they were to blame, despite most of them possessing no measurable sense of humour. But it did not take him long to guess at the true culprit, which excited him to no end. All that he needed was a bit of proof. Because of this, and a bit more than a healthy amount of curiosity, he had hidden several web cams about the room. One way or another, he was going to catch the Old Roman red handed.

Sadly, none of this was terribly useful when one was sleeping. He shifted slightly on his chair, muttering something about walking fish and a plea to his gran to not make him go to school, before snoring rather loudly.

{I have been slowly working through my drafts and saving them.}

I will do a post dump when I am done then move onto the next character. Once I am done all of my replies, I will (hopefully) be doing up my promos and giveaway.

If you would like to RP and we are not currently doing so, please like this or send me a message.

I am sorry for taking so long to get things to… There has simply been an awful lot getting in the way and it has been difficult to manage. But please believe me that I still love and want to RP and chat with any and all of you. Thank you so much for your continued kindness and patience.

Welcome to the Talamasca

Jamie looked genuinely surprised for a moment, but a warm smile soon spread across his face. "Well... Yeah. 'Course there are. There're people that can do all sorts'a things. There's this one woman that can 'eat up 'er tea jus' by thinkin' 'bout it. Brilliant, ain't it?" he laughed. "Most'a us 'ad been told'ta 'ave a look out fer 'ya. Sum'a them could see 'ya an' all, but tha's not exactly my forte. But I did 'ave yer name! So there's that."

He gestured ahead of himself, hoping that he would go ahead and start walking while he sorted out his kit. "Don' worry 'bout it, though. Most'a them mind readin' and psychic types are pretty respectable 'bout it. An if they're not, it's pretty easy 'ta build up some barrier in yer 'ead. Even I did it, an' I can't do so much as tip a teacup" he laughed. "I could show you 'ow, if you'd like? Then again, there's a chance you'll get situated an' I'll never be seein' 'ya again. I work in files an' records, 'ya see. I'm an archivist. I've been digitizin' an' restorin' sum'a our oldest collections. The rest'a them aren't really the computer types. Most'a them don' even carry mobiles! Can 'ya believe that? So it's pretty much jus' me down there..."

He shrugged congenially. "I don' matter. I don' mind, really. I get the gaff t'myself, so I can pretty much do what I please." He shook his head as he pulled his mobile out of his pocket. "Bloody thing doesn' even get preoper service in 'ere. Sometimes I think it's their lot" he said in an almost conspiratorial whisper, gesturing about them. "Sometimes 'ya can feel all the psychic energy in tha' air. Like electricity. It's bonkers" he laughed.

Jamie moved rather swiftly through the halls, which all looked remarkably like a combination of a stately Victorian home, a museum and a university.  "D'ya want a cuppa? I'm froze to tha' bone. I'll be a zombie t'morrow if I don' get somethin' 'ta warm me up." He looked to Marcus expectantly, then grinned. "Don' matter. Kitchen's on the tour! This was-" he gestured down the hall before passing him.

"An' don' be afraid t'tell me if I'm talkin' too much. Like I said, I'm mostly stuck in the archives on my own with only people on Tumblr an' World a' Warcraft t'talk to. Erm-" he stopped and gave Marcus a sheepish smile. "Jus' pretend I didn' say that" he said with an awkward laugh.

{I swear, I'll be back on all of characters (including canons) soon...}

I’m seeing my pain management doctor on Monday, so hopefully my meds will be better sorted. I miss all of you and I’ve been making you wait for far too long. I’m so sorry.