Necropolis Memorial Cemetery/Old Seville Mansion

You did it! Yes, we have reached the payment threashold for the annual domain name fee. As always, thank you to those of you who donated. I never think to have you put on your character names on the donation form somewhere so I could list you here, but you know who you are. Anyhow, thanks again! And Happy Palla Grande... er... I mean, Halloween!

The cemetery lies south of the city proper; just outside the Necropolis city limits. Looming above it on top of a steep rise of earth is the Old Seville Mansion. The manor house had a torrid history in Necropolis that included the death of several members of the Seville family. Necropolis is in an interesting position for any Wraith of any faction to find himself or herself in; Kindred are not the only dead to walk the Necropolitan night... a fact which the growing subset of Necropolis' supernatural communicty are most aware of...

There are 0 people here The most recent statement was made about 1042 hours ago.

: Grace peers out into the night. "Tiddles! Tiddles!" No response. "Bad kitty! Come in, it's bedtime!" Her mom sighs and gently pulls her away from the door, shutting it. "Honey, Tiddles will come back when he's hungry. He's just out doing cat things, he'll be fine. -You- need to get to bed, come on." Grace's eyes are wide as her mom tucks her in. "Are you -sure- Tiddles will come back?" "Positive. I promise." Her mom assures her. "Good night, honey."

: Outside in the yard, a shadow that stood watching the open door and the little face inside slips away.

: Later, and miles away, in the Necropolis Cemetary, a skinny and pock-faced loser with tangled hair and body odor crouches over a gravestone laid into the weed-choked grass. Humming tunelessly, it uses a long, furry 'brush' to paint the stone with dark streaks. The rough sack next to the figure twitches spasmoticly, and the skinny figure thumps it. A low, gutteral moan issues, and the sack lays still.

: The figure licks the 'brush', his tongue long and strangely pointed, and continues to paint.

: Eventually, the sack is disturbed, with a wet, wrenching sound and a fresh scream from inside it.

: He replaces the brush that is drying out with a new one, and continues to work. Occasionally that long, pointed tongue licks the brush. He replaces the brush that is drying out with a new one, and continues to work. Occasionally that long, pointed tongue licks the brush.

: Hours pass before there are no 'brushes' left and the work is done.

: He adds finishing touches; candles that stink of rancid fat, a few shards of a shattered mirror, the rest of what was in the sack.

: The loser rises and grins, slouching away out of the cemetery. "Gotta make sure Gracey finds her kitty..." he mutters to himself as he leaves the scene.

: ---------------------------------------

: A group of mostly 'Scouts' (boys & girls of all ages, the Uniform colors that show said groups of BSA, GSA & Explorers) & others gather in the cemetery. After a short meeting get to work, tending to things by cleaning grave markers that have not been properly attended to by the 'families', clearing out any trash or the marks of vandalism that have occurred. When the grounds-keepers show up, they assist in minor repairers to the grounds & buildings.

: The youngest members (with an adult supervising) come in as the graves have been cleaned & arrange flag(s) at each marker; minimum of at least an American flag per. Other graves get the addition of a military branch flag for under they severed, though there are some others. To those that know the designs; the 2nd Kansas Infantry Battalion, the Missouri Battle flag & the 'Indian Peace' flag are placed next to select markers. They then talk to the grounds-keepers before placing a sign near the entrance that reads, "This ARC (Act of Random Caring) was from the Greater Kansas City Scouting Council," then after a break-line on the sign is, "Home of the Free, Because of the Brave." Then, as quickly as the group came, they depart to the winds.

: **********{posts were after about 177 hours of nothing}**********

William Clancy: While just shy of 6' and clad with a black leather riding vest with a blooded skull on the back and some patches (Like American flag, BACA Oval & FOP Star) on the front, he seems unmoved by an reaction towards him. With a pair of heavy leather boots, the tops are under a pair of relaxed fit jeans with several stains and patches sewn into, his age could be guessed at early to mid 20's as he rides a Cam-Am Sypder F3. A t-shirt can be seen from under the vest's openings, as it adorns his chest. A pair of fingerless gauntlets for riding. Upon the left hip is a pouch for a collapsible baton. His head sports a barely combed tangle of short cut red hair that flows into strait sideburns down the edges that frame the pale, mottled face of. A pair of cheap, black, wrap-around shades that seem to fit his look semi-tastefully and seem to pronounce the slight scar splitting his left eyebrow. [Body like Steve Austin (WWE) in his Prime with Edward Hyde's Hairstyle (LXG)]

William Clancy: He quietly drives into the burial grounds, as if looking for something. He nods to some graves as he passes, though he chooses not to stop at any one of them.

William Clancy: He depart to the gates to the streets, though quietly says to nothing particular, "The one that defiled these grounds most likely means more harm. Hunt them if you wish, I am." Then, he drives off, hoping his gut feeling is wrong.

: **********{posts were after about 199 hours of nothing}**********

: (As the Eclipse passes over Kansas City, the Shroud ripples with the energies, as even the most jaded hearts seek out ways to observe in wonder!)

: ~~~~~~~~~~~

: something stirs in the world beyond the land of the living.

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Lake Smithville Woods (0)
Vast expanse of lakefront property fringed by woods. One can expect to see the shore abound with fun and frolic as any lake would... only this fun and frolic is done exclusively at night. The Garou are lords of this land, others should tread carefully.
The Streets of Necropolis (2)
A slowly flickering streetlight illuminates this dark street. All roads though town lead to this main road. Shadowy figures dart in and out of alleyways, and only the brave or foolish remain here long.

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