City that Care Forgot

What the hell.
Sayward's Private Google Doc

:::SECRET:::

I’m going to start keeping a journal. I haven’t done this sort of thing since I was in middle school, which seems about a million years away right now. I don’t have anyone to talk to, so I better start putting thoughts down somewhere, or I think I might actually go insane.

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Snakemen
Claire's Secret Diary

:::SECRET:::

Wow. It’s been an interesting couple of nights.

I didn’t mention in my last entry Brent’s strange ability to blurt out odd crap that somehow seems to make sense later. A few nights ago he apparently had an entire dream of all of this odd stuff and let us know. He was trying to kill a snake because he had a feeling it was guarding something. Unbeknownst to him that evening a couple of others in our Coterie were meeting with a member of the Setites knowns as Onofris.

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Isaiah 14:12
And falling is just another way to fly...

Tori Amos – The Happy Phantom

So much for Newton. All objects clearly do not fall at the same rate. Unless, of course, I’m expected to believe that my soul has a higher density than those of others. Darkness, being the lack of energy as perceived by visual sense, has no mass however. He did get it right about the effects of separation being exponential though, that’s for sure. I’ve never been good with metaphors, or religion for that matter. I suppose it can be learned like anything else – slowly and painfully – since it seems it must be self-taught, and phoning it in won’t do the trick.

Do I blow up the house with him and his new friends in it? Or just him? Or should I let him loose on the world and see what becomes of it? Thanks, in a way, to Pulse, but more so to Miranda, I could disappear as far as “The Corporation” is concerned. Every good story deserves a vengeful ghost.

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Who? What? Why?
Claire's Secret Diary

:::Secret:::

Crap. I think I’ve made a big mistake. Probably several but still… this one will effect someone that isn’t me. Despite how much I disliked what he did to me at first, I’m starting to see it as a gift. And I just likely got him in trouble. He is responsible for my mistakes (which I abhor, by the way) and tonight I insulted the Sheriff. Of course he taught me a lesson with violence, pretty much like everyone else I’ve met in the Camarilla aside from the members of my coterie. I have to suck it up and apologize to him, even if I don’t particularly mean it. It is the “right” thing to do, at least on behalf of my Sire.

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When In Rome
Music to Unlive By

{{I hadn’t heard this song until recently, and only today really listened to it. It seems to fit our Nights in a general sense, but not so much suitable for a particular entry for Shane, so I’m just leaving it here. Lyrics after the jump.}}

Nickle Creek – When In Rome

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The Chronical of Renner: A new path

What the hell was that… I go to my banged up room intent on getting some sleep before my red eye outta this city and next I know I’m in a sack! What is this friggin’ Taken!? For an organization of undead badasses these folks really gotta get a better recruiter.

Oh that’s right, you don’t know.

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Still Sitting & Thinking
Claire's Secret Diary

As I’m sitting here, thinking about how to dispose of this… problem. It occurs to me that I need to get a job. My bank account is dwindling. Lamech was connected with my former employer, The LA Museum at The Cabildo. Maybe he can get me another museum job once he wakes up.

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Stuff Happens
Claire's Secret Diary

The past several months have been a whirlwind of stupidity. This is MY damn journal so I don’t need to explain the whole “now I’m a vampire” thing… oh, sorry, “Kindred”. SNARK! We’re vampires even if we call ourselves something more tasteful. Someone said it’s like not calling our human selves hairless apes even though we really were. Saying “Human” is more tasteful. I was really never one to deny my existence as a hairless ape, though. Okay, sometimes I denied it to myself. In fact, my collection of all of these artifacts and bits and bobs of human existence was a way for me to try to bolster a feeling of humanity, a feeling that all of it meant something. Now I find the same dilemma in Kindred existence. Call it “Vampire;” call it “Kindred;” I call it all the same: existential confusion and bolstering one’s spirit against depression.

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This Might Be The Last Post For A While
From The Art Of History, Today And Yesterday

Dear Readers, I know I’ve only been posting spottily for the past few months and I may be on hiatus for a while more. At the very least, I will be posting less often. Suffice it to say, some of what we thought was true IS. I’m off to find out more. I won’t be posting about it… yet… Let’s just say, I’ve found a lot more “yesterday.”

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Les Mots du Damne'
Remy's Journal

Used to think keeping a diary, or journal, or what the fuck ever, was an activity for worthless intellectuals. Why spend time writing when there’s plenty of time for going out and doing, right? But Fate, or God, or Destiny decided to play a grand joke on me, and now I’m saddled with nothing but time. So here I am, scribbling my thoughts away in the last few minutes before sunup, holed up in my attic with some out-of-town nerd and a thief and a biochemist downstairs. There’s a dog cop in our new “family” too, but I haven’t seen her since we fought the…well, there it is. The werewolf.

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