Rudolph Longstaff aka Abel Beaumarchais
those boon times went bust
my feet of clay, they dried to dust
the red isn't the red we painted
its just rust

Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health | Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura

---

Exhibit: The Etruscans - A Mysterious Italian People

Another night, another trip to the museum to look at art. Play-acting as a Toreador never really got boring for Rudy. Evading his own identity was a compulsion he couldn’t resist - someone should do a study, calling Dr. Netchurch! But more than that, with this particular role there was almost no way to do it wrong. Pretending to be a scholar of art was as valid as actually possessing scholarly knowledge of art. Mistakes were little imperfections that just made it feel more real. Posing as a poseur was sometimes actually more valuable because it was so believable. How many foppish, pretentious aesthetes populated the clan of the Rose? 

Too fuckin’ many to count.

Nature abhorred a vacuum, and when presented with the empty canvas generated by a dilettante, others tended to paint their own thoughts and feelings onto it. In a sense, it was like becoming a mirror; since there was nothing real of the personality to reflect, what it reflected back instead was what the other person wanted to see. Kindred often had deep-seated needs to dominate and feel strong, so the vacuous mirror created plenty of opportunities to give them that.

This evening, he was enjoying an exhibit on the Etruscans. His ensemble presented as steetwear aristocrat: an oversized white hoodie with an abstract print, tailored black cargo pants, black matte leather combat boots, and a long black wool trench coat. Affectation from top to bottom.

He was standing in front of a terracotta sculpture, a bust of a young woman adorned as a maenad. Here he was, a man of unknown identity, exploring art of a little-known people, looking at the representation of a follower of Dionysus, whilst sipping from a little glass bottle filled with liquid believed to be created by the god of the same name. Theatrical synergy, thy name is Rudolph!

The self-satisfied smile that crossed his face indicated to any onlookers that he was already enjoying his evening.

Yorick Tsipras
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I do not die

Euthanatos | Notoriety 2 | Medium

---

He was lying on a futon in his cheap studio apartment with a book in his hands. Theogony. Then his vision blurred and his eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. When he opened them again, he was lying in the grass. It was cold and wet; a sharp contrast to the dry warmth from the previous moment. The late morning light was gone in a single blink. It was so dark. How many hours had passed?

Yorick pushed up on his elbows, trying to likewise push away the grogginess in his mind. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. He grasped at liquid threads of thought and memory, trying to grasp something familiar. When he took hold of one of them, he was suddenly standing. He was six paces behind another man; a man with his height, build, and even the same colored hair. 

Grabbing the man’s shoulder, he turned him about, and felt like he was looking into a mirror. Like a twisted carnival funhouse. Like one of the mirrors that showed alternate versions of himself. This one clad in a deep crimson cloak and wool breeches, with dark leather boots and a short bow in his hands and a quiver at his back.

“Wh-wh-wh-what.” The word fell out of his mouth like water tumbling roughly over stones. He didn’t know what he was looking at - or who - and yet also somehow did know. The man he looked at was hale and healthy. Had a quality that almost seemed cherubic. It was astonishing and bizarre. It made him anxious. 

The man with the horses got a casual glance, and a name came to Yorick’s lips. Sebastian. A brother in name only. A servant, a friend, a thrall. The one who walked in the day and handled the household affairs. Beloved, but also property. An unsettling dichotomy.

Then He looked over at the horizon, recognizing Cathedral Reach. The chantry. He instinctively knew that it was out of place. It had been overlaid atop something else. Another chantry. Foul wizards. Profane. A dark irony. Or the twisted strands of fate.

When Yorick turned his gaze back, the cloaked man was gone. Because it was him. Now he was clad in the soft wool and cotton clothing from an age long past. He pushed the brick-colored hood back and squinted at the bow in his hands. An archaic weapon. One he’d only learned - or rather, the other man had learned - from his friend.

Geoffrey approached, as if on cue, looking very pleased. It was a strange expression; one Yorick really hadn’t seen before.

“Wh-wh-what I was looking f-for.” He drew in a deep breath and pinched his eyes shut. He refused to be a slave to his impediment. His strength of will sort of bent the space around him and then radiated outwards. It was only a momentary flicker. But he suddenly felt a lot more confident. Able to control what was happening.

“What now?”

Want a spreadsheet template to track XP? Here you go!

All active players get 9XP for the PLAYER for the week.
All sub-setting STs receive 5XP per sub-setting that was ACTIVE this week.

Note that if a vote is given to an NPC handle, the player can add it to their player XP instead.


# Voting for the Anywhere Cafe as of 2025-04-08

## Chance
* Jirou Hiyama: 1 (XP Vote), 3 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.25
* Jonesy: 2 (XP Vote), 3 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.75
* Morgan Kenneally: 1 (XP Vote), 2 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.0

## BIGDoor82
* Seth Vaughn: 2 (XP Vote), 4 (Popcorn) / Total: 2
* Vampire NPC: 1 (Popcorn) / Total: 0.25

## Mother Hydra
* Lena Carsei: 1 (XP Vote), 4 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.0
* Rika Valkyr: 1 (XP Vote), 1 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.25
* Sergine "Serge" Carlock: 1 (XP Vote), 5 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.25
* Sheridan Locke: 1 (XP Vote), 5 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.25

## VAP0R$PAC3
* Lucky Jack (NPC): 2 (XP Vote), 5 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.25
* M'Kayleigh Bancroft : 3 (XP Vote), 8 (Popcorn) / Total: 3.5
* Sharon Singleton (NPC): 1 (Popcorn) / Total: 0.25

## Calliamity
* Nesmeyana Vinnikova: 1 (Popcorn) / Total: 0.25
* Regina Roberts: 2 (XP Vote), 8 (Popcorn) / Total: 4.0
* Victory Nash: 1 (XP Vote), 3 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.25

## Suzy
* Faith Everett: 1 (XP Vote), 2 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.0

## Mat
* Christofer Webb: 3 (XP Vote), 8 (Popcorn) / Total: 3.5
* Percival ap Beaumayn: 3 (XP Vote), 5 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.75
* Rudolph Longstaff: 4 (XP Vote), 8 (Popcorn) / Total: 4.0
* Yorick Tsipras: 1 (Popcorn) / Total: 0.25

## Kamikaze
* Alton Coupland: 1 (XP Vote), 7 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.25
* Yumi: 2 (XP Vote), 5 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.25

## Jenn B.
* Corine Ashgrave: 2 (XP Vote), 4 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.0
* Geoffrey Wodeward: 1 (XP Vote), 2 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.0
* Golnar Rouhani: 6 (XP Vote), 7 (Popcorn) / Total: 4.75
* Josie Reed: 1 (XP Vote), 9 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.75
* Laura Aurel: 3 (XP Vote) / Total: 1.5
* Megan Benoit: 2 (Popcorn) / Total: 0.5
* Tamara Kudrina: 3 (XP Vote), 7 (Popcorn) / Total: 3.25

## cthulhuboss
* Skybreaker: 1 (XP Vote), 4 (Popcorn) / Total: 1.5

## bethness
* Caleb Creighton: 2 (XP Vote), 6 (Popcorn) / Total: 2.5
* Laoise Ní Chonaill: 6 (XP Vote), 10 (Popcorn) / Total: 5.5

Rudolph Longstaff aka Abel Beaumarchais
if the good die young we're gonna live forever
heaven and earth, couldn′t stand in our way
if the good die young we′re gonna live forever
and that's the price we′re gonna pay

Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health | Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura

---

“There are five and they are inviolate. First, if you kill, you absolutely cannot leave behind any evidence. Literally nothing. Seems like common sense to me, but you know how some people are. The second is that tourists and travelers are off-limits for anything more than just a tiny sip. And personally? I wouldn’t even risk that.” As they’d just seen, there was always a risk of frenzying.

“Third, you can’t involve yourself with the local press or the local police. They’re both part of his domain in totality. Fourth, leave your **** at the door when you come to Elysium. This one gets observed pretty much by the letter. There’s been more than one lick who ended up getting dusted just outside the doors. And lastly…his enemies are your enemies. If you help them you’ll get put on a permanent **** List.” 

When asked where he thought the Anarchs were getting help from, Abel chuckled. “Geoffrey, Geoffrey, Geoffrey…” He perched the sunglasses on top of his head again, hoping the red staining had faded from his eyes. “If I knew for sure, I’d be telling Lodin and becoming his best boy. I only have a guess, and guessing is dangerous.”

He glanced to his right, then to his left, and his gaze fell upon one of the other city’s residents surrounded by blood dolls. Abel may have been almost an Elder by American standards, but in this place he was the equivalent of a recent college grad. “Certain individuals would not appreciate my theorizing, and ironically, you might be one of them.”

He’d basically laid out all the pieces for Geoff already. The Primogen warring with the Prince, the Anarchs landing blows against Lodin, their seeming ineffectiveness without aid, and the oblique mention of Inyanga working magic. It was just guesswork, but the theory fit the available facts.

Abel wrote a phone number on a scrap of paper and pushed it across the teak tabletop to the other man. 

“This is an answering service I use to screen calls. Leave a message once you get settled in the city - or even if you just decide to keep passing through - and we can meet again to see if a partnership has any legs. Sound good?”

Geoff had proven himself competent bringing Tamas’ insult all the way from the capital of Hungary. Maybe he could bring something back. Bombings happened every day.

Rudolph Longstaff aka Abel Beaumarchais
mirror mirror
on the wall
don't say it
'cause i know i'm cute

Toreador Ancilla | Blush of Health | Enchanting Voice | Deceptive Aura

---

“It needs some work,” he said of the club. “Security-wise. Physical. Personnel. I had to shed some of my assets when I left the frigid north. Not money, of course, but contacts, relationships, ghouls. I’m starting fresh here. Putting out some feelers, rebuilding networks. I could definitely use your help fortifying. I’m open to re-negotiating our relationship but I thought what we had before worked well, if you’d like to just pick up where we left off.”

Equals. With different skills, but synergizing for mutual profit.

“There’s a lot more Kindred in this city, and yeah, there are some…hostile presences nearby,” he added with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what they say: location, location, location. I started negotiating with Angelique before I arrived. Proposed how I could be of use; offered a boon. I suggested that I could take up on the northwest outskirts of the city - border region with the Anarchs that take up in Clearwater. The Sabbat are down in St. Petersburg, though I don’t really know yet much about them. Still, i’d much prefer to keep Tampa Bay between me and them.”

He shrugged. “I had a toddler barge in the door recently. Three years old,” he said, chuckling. “A Ventrue, but not like any you’ve ever met. Credit where it’s due; she had moxie. Plenty of character and then some. She’s in some coterie: her, a Brujah, a Malkavian, and another Toreador,” he said, putting amused emphasis on the word ‘another’. “Wanted me to just hand over my domain to her and her friends for feeding, and made a pretty insulting opening bid. I don’t think she intended for it to be such a bad offer, I think it was just inexperience. But then I returned with a terrible counter just to kind of **** with her, and she got upset. The irony is that I think I could have actually done a lot for her, but she had a head full of steam and left with a chip on her shoulder.”

Abel smiled. “Her sire is the local clan Whip, Leo James, conducting what I can only imagine is some kind of social experiment. Kudos to him, it’s a fascinating thing to watch.”

He sighed. “Mark my words, though: those Spice Girls are gonna be trouble.”