Darkest Desires - Good enough to sink your teeth into...

[Xanatos]

-chuckles- No worries Nim. I intentionally was ambiguous, though I just couldn't let it sit without making it clear I was kidding. I prefer vampires myself, however, werewolves do have an appeal.

Well, whoever is the Ravnos King in the end, would definitely know the Brujah King. From what My has told me, is that the kings all plotted together to kill the previous queen, and I doubt My would mind a little more background between kings. 

[Aether]

Nim:

Yes, they pull from Underworld, also from Harris' exceptional vamp series thats now media mainstream in the HBO special, True Blood.  I also got some research done at the local bookstore for touch ups on Silver and what it actually does to a were, and it what instances.  I also was able to find some good info on their near supernatural health, but our simplistic format there will suffice.

You may want to, as I did with my were, choose an extraordinary amongst the pack sense focus.  I got this from Harris.  I figure your particular sense focus will be very narrow, but a step above the more than normally acute senses that were's already posses.

[Nim]

*Nods to  Xanatos*  yes indeed regardless of how the King vote turns out this story has the potential to be very fun and entertaining.

Yes Aether,  I had been considering having my were's specialty be more agile and quick than had come to be the norm.  Either that or far enhanced hearing... have not quite decided.

[Lady Kitsune]

Exceptional Vamp series?  Harris?  If you want an exceptional vamp series, I'd go Laurell K. Hamilton and her were's are awesome, too.  She must have the best Were heirarchy I've read
Ulfric - Alpha,  Bolverk- second etc.  http://www.werewolves.com/laurell-k-hamilton%E2%80%99s-werewolves/

Plus she does erotic fiction, which makes her one of my favorites.

[Nim]

Thank you Lady Kitsune,  I have your reference book marked for tomorrow as it is nearly time for Nim to hit the old sack.

[Lady Kitsune]

G'night Nim.

[Nim]

Name: Turris
Age: Was 5 when Altare first started to cultivate  the Gangrel clan into her plans for the future. 
Race: Werewolf (Pure Blood)
Clan: Gangrel

Biography: There had been a small branch of the Gangrel clan who had been unsure of this then new Vampire Princess Altare.  After many months of debate and discussion both with only the other members of their clan and with Atare herself this small branch broke off from the rest and went their own way.  Being only 5 at the time Turris had no real say in the matter and so was taken along with his older brother and two younger sisters by his parents who had more or less spearheaded the whole movement for a separation when an agreement (in their eyes) could not be made with Altare. 

In the early 1800's Turris's mate died giving birth to their still borne son.  With the death of his mate weighing heavily on his soul Turris set out on his own leaving the hidden mountain valley where he had grown up with his branch of the Gangrel.  Several years after starting this journey he came across the strange cent of werewolf's and vampire's living together.  Remembering the old family stories of how their family had split from the main body of the Gangrel clan Turris studied this group for nearly 3 years always staying in the outskirts until his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to make contact with them. 

Station: Having come in as somewhat of an outsider not withstanding the fact he carried the blood of the Gangrel Clan within his veins Turris has finally earned the respect and trust of his fellow clan members as he has given his full loyal service to Queen Altera slowly working his way up through the higher Archy of his 'new' clan members.   

Weapons:  In human form, Long staff and bow.  Also expert in the use of Nunchucks.  Wears two pairs both with silver blades that come out of the ends when used in a certain combination of moves and grips on the ebony surface of the nunchucks themselves.  In transformed state like most other werewolves his claws and teeth become the only weapons he needs. 

Abilities: Typical werewolf abilities only with the advantage of superior hearing which gives him an advantage in knowing where his opponents are and knowing their movements.   His superior hearing is limited to within a hundred yard of his person.
`
Appearance: Human form/Much like that of Wolverine in the new X-Men movies (if you have not seen the movies that would make him about 5'10" and physically fit) only his hair is black and much longer coming almost half way down his back when worn loose but is normally tied back in a pony tail with a leather thong.  Is most often found wearing black leather pants black boots, black poets shirt and long (yes you guessed it) black leather trench style coat with slits under the arms to allow for more freedom in movement should a fight break out.  In transformed state is nearly all black save for a 3 inch silver crescent moon shape on the back of his right shoulder blade.

Personality:  Both reserved and quiet.  The perfect silent sentinel for he is both a watcher and listener.  Poised and always ready for action.

[Esoteric Myobi]

Alright! Have updated the list of positions and characters. Dark Clown has won the position of Ravnos King, his profile should be posted up shortly. We also have another wolf on board which brings our roster up to an even 10 and an equal amount of male and female characters as well. Perfect!

Any plotting that needs to be done between characters, please do so. Since I don't really have a specific plot laid out, everyone can basically plan out their own subplots and incorporate them into the storyline. Of course, if it's something important and specific and you think may be ruined by others unless you tell me beforehand, then feel free to do so and I will try to make it happen.

I will be making an OOC thread soon and after that hopefully the first game thread for Chapter 1 to begin! ^^

[Lady Kitsune]

Psst, Myobi *uses super whispery voice*

Is this Thief or Desires?  *looks up*

Looking forward to it.

[Nim]

Congrats on winning the role Random  Dark Clown.   Sorry went along with the trend should have checked... *waggles finger at Myobi... then blows a light kiss to her cheek.*

I am looking forward to the start of this new game. 

[Esoteric Myobi]

-giggles and looks around secretively-

I think...it's Desires...that must be why I'm feeling so...desiring right now? :o

I always want to steal something or cut someone's throat in Thief...-coughs-...I mean. Er. Act like the civilized sociopath and well behaved citizen that Era truly is at heart.

What? Don't look at me like that! I swear she pays the taxes!

[Lady Kitsune]

Ahem *coughs and clears throat*

I meant...1st page says Dark *looks up at Random*

*Epic fail on gentle nudge*

And I doubt Era pays all her taxes. >.>

[Esoteric Myobi]

-falls flat on her face as realization smacks her like a brick-

Oh my. Someone tell me to stop talking to them both at once! There's too many clowns on this site x3

Excuse me, Dark Clown not Random Clown (has edited her posts).

And she does!...She pays all of a years worth in the span of ten years time. =) See?

Edit: Huh, for some odd reason I wrote Dark on the first post but then Random in that little post here...-scatterbrained-

[Mr Self Destruct]

We Clowns get confused too easily, it seems. lol

Anyway, here's my profile.  Those other vamp kings (and anyone else who'd like to peruse) feel free to give it a look, and let me know if anything plot wise jumps out that we might use in the current day story. 

Name: Aleksey Desaad
Age: 518 years
Race: Vampire
Clan: Ravnos
Station: King
Weapons: A pair of sabres, or Szabla, as they are called in his native Hungary.  They are weapons of exceptional craftsmanship, and were created during his rule over Hungary in the late 1500's.  Given as a gift by a subjugated mortal King, they were quickly used to behead said king, and its rumored that the man's blood still taints their hilts.



Abilities: Illusion, Flight
Appearance:



Personality: Years of life among the dead, mimicking humanity whilst amongst them, has left his sanity fractured, if not close to breaking.  At times he is cold and aloof, heedless of outside influence, worrying about his own trivialities as a monster.  At other times, his focus is almost too intense, and he can spend hours plotting and scheming, thinking of plans and probabilities with a mind that would border between genius and insanity.  His personality is such that every night can bring a new and strange twist to those around him.  If nothing else, he is always esoteric and unique, and not many can concieve ways in which to interact with him.

Biography: Born in Stalingrad (now Volgograd) in southwestern Russia in 1492, he was the only child of Petrovich Desaad, a pure blood vampire of the Ravnos clan who could track his lineage back to the time of the Crusades.  Being the progeny of such a powerful creature brought with it its own form of trials and tribulations, and the young child was often criticized by his father for failing to follow the grand example set to him by his father, and those before him.  His mother, a fellow pure blood, was little better, though she did show a compassion for the boy that bordered on obsessive.  She made certain that he was finely dressed at all times, and fussed for hours over his appearance, instilling in him an obsessiveness over his own appearance that has survived to the present day.

When he was older, he began attending clan meetings with his father, and was stunned to discover that the members of the Ravnos clan numbered in the thousands.  The clan had sub groups that were called Covens, and each coven could host a hundred members or more.  But for all of this 'caste' systemizing, it did little good when squabbles over land and feeding rights broke out between covens.  As often as the vampires of the Ravnos fought their enemies, they fought each other, and more often than not when a vampire of the clan died, it was by the hands of a fellow Ravnos.

Being a pure blood himself, all of this violence and bloodshed was not only foolish, but downright dangerous to his existance.  As his mind matured and grew, so did his desire for peace.  Where his father would simply turn a blind eye, he would press and investigate for answers, earning the ire of not only the other clans, but also those among his own.  Rumors circulated that the young upstart prince was growing to be a thorn in the clan's side, and unbeknownst to him, plots were made to silence the inquisitive and insistant young vampire, forever.

So it was when he was just half a century old, a trio of assassins swiftly entered his chambers, weapons at the ready, intent on silencing his voice forever.  They were foolish in thinking him an easy target; for years, his father had insisted that he train with a blade, should a time like this ever come.  He battled them, three against one, and defeated them each in turn.  Lost in the thrill of battle, overcome with its lust, he gave into his own hunger and drank the rapidly spilling blood of the three vampires that had attacked him. 

It was thus that his father discovered him, kneeling on the floor, his fangs sunk into the flesh of one of his assassins, the other two already turned to a dry husk from the taboo feeding.  Horrified at the scene, and infuriated with his son's lack of control, he dubbed the boy Kinslayer, and banished him from his kingdom for the rest of his unnatural life.  At the pain of death, he was warned never to return, and for two hundred years, he traveled the world, growing and maturing, and ultimately coming to understand one thing: if he were to truly survive, he not only had to face his past, but overcome it.  And the only way to do that was to face his father.

During his years of solitude, he had learned more about the art of killing, spending nearly a century as Hungary's overlord.  He ruled the land with an iron fist, and laid a bloody gauntlet of death and despair across the landscape.  Any who resisted were punished severely as an example to the rest, and it was during this time that he earned the moniker Desaad Nex Paciscor, or Desaad the Death Dealer.  He beheaded the King of Hungary, Rudolf II, after the man presented him a pair of twin sabers as a tribute of loyalty. 

This fortitude in the face of death served him well.  No longer affected by the horrors of death and bloodshed like he once was, he returned to his father's land, and challenged him.  Such a formal challenge was unheard of, but Petrovich, as lord of his domain, was obligated to accept it, lest the vampires of his clan see him as weak.  His son knew this, and used the challenge to lure his father out to face him.  The battle was bloody and quick, ending with Petrovich's head separated from his body, and his blood staining his son's garments.

Inheriting his father's status and lands, he began a new time of prosperity for mortals and pure bloods alike.  Tiring of bloodshed and depravity, he set his sights on advancing his realm, and it wasn't long before the mortal realm flourished.  The vampires in his realm flourished as humanity grew, and feeding was largely unnoticed, so long as one was careful.  This time of peace would last only a scant sixty years, before the burdgeoning realm came under attack from a source all too close to home.

The revenants of the Ravnos clan, those who lusted for power and status of their own, betrayed him to the other clans.  Doing so was such an unspeakable act of treachery that death was considered the only suitable punishment.  Fortunately (for those performing the act), the punishment was only justified if their schemes failed.  Unfortunately for the young pure blood, their plan succeeded.  The revenants had allowed members of clans Malkavian and Brujah to lay claim to bordering territories, and it wasn't long before fighting began.  This fighting eventually scarred the landscape and brought death and bloodshed to the very steps of his castle.  Forced to defend himself and his holdings, he rode out to meet these usupers face to face, little realizing how outnumbered he was.

He was summarily defeated, overwhelmed by superior numbers.  In their haste to avoid the burning daylight, the revenants, along with the members of the Malkavian and Brujah forces, staked his body to the roof of the town's cathedral.  They jabbed long pikes through his hands and feet, pinning him to the crumbling rooftop, and left him for the sunlight to finish off.  After nearly three centuries of unlife, it seemed that the young Desaad prince would finally meet his end.

But fate was with him, it seemed, as the dawn approached.  Representatives of two factions, those led by the Malkavian 'King', and the Brujah 'King', were there to rescue him, and pull him down from the rooftop.  He escaped the terrible power of the dawn, and was made to promise his allegiance at that very moment.  If he refused, his saviors would leave him for the dawn once more.  If he agreed, however, he would have his chance at vengeance.  He quickly agreed, eager to taste the blood of his enemies.

Their plan was swift and quick.  After meeting with the 'Kings' of the other two clans, it was decided that they would gather those loyal to their banner, and march on the other clans.  The vampires had grown too wide in their reach, and the young prince almost beleived that his cause was holy in its scope and purpose.  It also offered him the chance for vengeance, and it was a vengeance that he took great pleasure in dealing.  Gathering those loyal to him, and his father, he joined forces with the other two factions, and laid waste to the whole of the vampire population.  Desaad the Death Dealer, the Kinslayer, and now King of the Ravnos, wrought such devestation during his march that his bloodlust was second to none in the years that followed.  When the smoke and the stench of death slowly began to clear, he was a changed creature, his sanity crumbling under the weight of so much death.

Their task complete, they had but one final goal: claiming the daughter of Clan Altare in order to breed with her, and propogate their own species.  The heir to the Clan Altere throne was young, however, and would take centuries to mature, ultimately making their plan stall.  In this interlude, the vampire went on his own path, eventually finding and Turning a young woman of noble birth to act as his second.  In the years that followed, he has remained largely a ghost, a figure spoken about by Turned and the Fangless, a legend both nameless and faceless.  As the nights seem to shorten, and the Triumverate's goal coming closer to fruition, will the legend become reality once more?  Will Desaad the Death Dealer, the Kinslayer, return to haunt the modern nights?  Or will his task ultimately be his undoing?

[Cassiopeia]

Very very awesome Dark Clown, way to develop your character!

[Jellineck]

Oooooh, I got chills.

[Le RandomBloke]

I'm honoured to be so awesome you confuse me with someone else. :P

[Esoteric Myobi]

It's not my fault I got confused! You're both clowns regardless >.>; One's just random while the other's dark...they're practically the same!

But yes, that was an awesome profile Dark. =) Very impressive ^^

I think we're waiting on profiles from two more people, or at least two more people have told me that they were definitely interested in joining...the rest seem to still be debating .-.;

[Nim]

Yes Dark Clown that truly was a well thought out profile.   I definitely can see why you were selected for the part.

[Esoteric Myobi]

The OOC thread has finally been made. =)

The game threads will hopefully soon follow.

[Malina]

Hi, there,  :D

finally I join officially and deliver my profile. I hope I'm not the last to do so, and if I am, that you've not been waiting too long.

There might be minor changes in this profile in case Dark Clown wishes to add or alter something as the Ravnos King's player.

Looking forwards to RPing with you all,

Malina

Name: Adelaide d’Harcourt

Age: According to rumours, rather old...

Race: Pureblood Vampire

Clan: Ravnos

Station:

A lover of music, dance and storytelling, and a chronicler so long ago it is entirely forgotten by almost every vampire, during the times of the ancient war (and still so if her king should wish it), she was an inquisitor and torturer.

Weapons/Abilities:

Empathy, Illusion

She uses weapons according to convenience and what the occasion warrants. She has quite a collection, and some are unusual, indeed.

Appearance:

She has very long hair, dark brown with hints of copper and gold in it, and eyes so dark they seem black in most light, and a red tinged brown if the light falls into them. With five feet and four inches, she once stood tall among her contemporaries.

Personality:

Largely unknown. She is a riddle to most, feared by some, described to be utterly without feeling, cruel, calculating, cold, no matter how charming she might appear if she so choses. There are rumours that once, she was as harmless as she can still seem. That almost caressing timbre of her voice, those soft dark eyes under thick, long lashes, that wide, generous smile and infectious laughter, some insist, once belonged to a vampire whose looks did not belie her nature, whose sweetness was not yet poisoned. It appears it is nigh on impossible to make her lose her temper, anger or insult her, but perhpas one should not judge only by that which meets the eye?

Biography:

Rare the vampire who remembers young Adelaide, the lover, the mother she once has been. Few survived to tell of the fate that befell her child, murdered out of envy, greed and hunger for power when it was so little. What the death of so small a being brought about would have been legendary, perhaps, had more survived to tell the tale. Adelaide had been hardly mentioned in those days of many conflicts and great deeds, charming and entertaining but politically unimportant, an observer and chronicler of the doings of others, she was a vampire none had reckoned with.

This would change too late for most, and only when she had hauled in her net, pulled the strings she had spun for decades, and set her enemies one against the other like rabid dogs. With the loss of her child through treachery and murder, she had changed into a creature of wrath, seemingly without compassion, a schemer and torturer with no other, albeit secret, obsession than to bring down every single one who had known of the plans to murder her child, had plotted, aided or executed the deed, yes, everyone held dear by any of these vampires. She wanted them wiped them out, one way or another, and had them killed or killed them herself.

The most involved, most guilty, most hated, she kept for half an eternity in her new and secret abode, to listen to their screams and pleas. In the course of these events, she refined her methods of interrogation and torture, until she reached true mastery in these fine arts. Centuries later, all involved in her child's death were hunted down, dead, forgotten, all who had a desire to avenge these vampires, too, along with all their allies. It was over. Silence fell. Her hatred had held its harvest and burned out.

Then, thankfully for her, perhaps, the madness of the last war came over vampire society, and she could use her talents once more. This is where her tale becomes more commonly known, where her terrible fame was founded. Was she so much worse than others, then, so much more cruel? Probably not. But she seemed - and seems to this night - so much less so that it made a strong impression. Only during the war, like a poisonous bubble in a swamp, she rose to the surface of vampire society and was duly noticed. Afterwards, with peace the new ruler, she was gone again, as silently as she had appeared in their midst one night, and she will not be seen again amongst them until her king summons her.

How he spends the long hours of her nights, whether the rumours of what she does to and with her captives, of whom it is believed she keeps them still, would hold true upon inspection, none can tell. None knows whether her home is as beautiful as has been claimed, or whether she wanders there, devastated, filled with remorse, as some would like to think, or whether she is as crazed as as others claim, whether she ever held or visited this feast, such an orgy, that secret gathering...

[Akasma]

Name: Samantha Altare (Previously Elizabeth Lasombra)
Age: She never kept count; she knows that she is well over a thousand years old.
Race: Vampire- pure blood
Clan: of the extinct (except for her, as far as she knows) Lasombra clan
Station: Hand maiden to Arina, always available for counsel.
Weapons: None, she has only defensive martial arts training purely for the sake of deflecting attacks.
Abilities: Empathy/Limited Telepathy (these abilities attributing very directly to the woman she has become.)
Appearance:
   Height: 5’0
Weight: 90 lbs
Eyes: Emerald green
Hair: Fiery red, curly, and down to her ankles
Body: Slender and graceful.
Description: Samantha is slender and delicate in appearance. It is obvious that she is not a fighter but she is graceful and quick. Her skin is alabaster white except for the freckles she has forever scorned.
http://www.becomegorgeous.com/img/users/jacqueline/hair_styles/super_cool_red_curly_hair-117.jpg

Personality: Surprisingly gentle, and ever in the pursuit of knowledge she spends most of her time reading. She is fluent in several languages and is a willing listener for anyone needing someone to vent to. She has made being unnoticed somewhat of an art form. Even among the Altare, she is often sitting in the room somewhere out of the way with the queen reading a book, ready for the queen’s call at any moment. In her own time she gardens at night, maintaining extensive flower gardens and she uses dancing as a form of meditation. She is almost always wearing long, flowing, elegant, dresses. She never was able to completely let go of the romantic eras dress style, lucky for her long elegant dresses are always in style. She is entirely opposed to violence of any kind and feels that her race will be saved only through knowledge and not through the acquisition of power. She does not often laugh after the loss of her family.

Biography:
It was a time of Vikings and religious persecution that saw Samantha into this world, born Elizabeth Lasombra to parents Kathrine and Joseph. Their clan was small but well established because the humans willingly served the Lasombra family for protection from other invading humans. The Lasombra were easily able to protect their subjects, without killing the attackers. The attackers were usually disarmed and turned into the servants of those they were protecting. Though Joseph insisted all be treated kindly, no beatings or starvation were allowed.
Through their kindness and control of rule their family grew and prospered. Kathrine was an amazing superintendent managing monetary matters and all trading. Elizabeth was taught to value knowledge over everything other than those you love, so much so that her hunger for knowledge was greater than her vampiric thirst for blood. So grew their family hold, she spent her days secluded away into a room surrounded by a 10ft wall of roses so that none but a vampire could enter. This blissful period lasted many centuries their greatest adventures being the collection of books, a rare prize in that era.

Given the gift of foresight, Joseph saw a glimpse of upcoming raids and knew his peaceful province would never survive. He bade Elizabeth marry the prince of the Brujah, Aaron, she reluctantly agreed at her fathers insistence. The union brought in a great many warriors and they valiantly protected the peaceable Lasombra family. In return the warriors gained much land and access to a great many luxuries they had previously been denied. This pulled the family through the raids, squashing the irrational pillagers and Aaron and Elizabeth had a child, a son, they named him Christopher. To Elizabeth’s dismay he was much like his father, eager for battle. She hoped that time would soften him but he trained beneath his father to become an amazing fighter, the best in their land by far.

After a time of peace, it was decided best to split the hold into two parts. The rowdy warriors had their own fort while the Lasombra’s stayed almost exclusively in the castle. One day without notice Joseph sent Elizabeth to fetch for him a tome from Rome that he had been trying to locate for some time. She knew something must be wrong and begged for him to tell her what was going on as the servants loaded the carriage with what seemed like an excessive amount of supplies. Finally they rendered Elizabeth unconscious and shackled her for the journey.
Later she would find that her father foresaw the demise of their lands at the hands of one of the larger clans. His premonition came too late to save more than Elizabeth and he knew they would be hunted to the ends of the Earth if he or Kathrine tried to escape, endangering their daughter. It was at the point that Elizabeth heard her family’s fate that she simultaneously changed her name to Samantha, going into hiding and went into mourning for her lost loved ones. She has never returned to her homeland.

One day Samantha heard of a brave Queen of the Altare clan that also thought war was not the answer. She met with this queen and offered to help the queen in any way she could in exchange for protection. Her offer was accepted, her fluency in a plethora of languages and diplomatic skill were bound to be of assistance. This was Arina’s mother and Samantha told her the whole truth of her history and asked that this knowledge not be shared with anyone. When the resurgence came that ended the Queen’s life Samantha became determined to ensure that Arina would not share a similar fate.

Now she serves Arina in a similar station, whether directing the household’s servants, acquiring clothing to Arina’s unique tastes, or negotiating diplomatic solutions for the eclectic collection of peoples that now comprise the Altare clan she performs her duties admirably. She views Arina as not only her race’s last chance for unity, but for the whole world’s final chance for lasting peace.

*It may need a bit of tweaking but I think that should be it for the most part*

[Bluerhythms]

Hi there!

I have read through this thread and I am very interested in this game. Expect my application for a human in a few days :)

[Esoteric Myobi]

Blue, glad to know that someone else wants to keep TheHangedMan company. Any questions just shoot me a PM, or if I'm taking too long to respond (which may very well happen due to current circumstances) feel free to ask Cassiopeia for help on details.

Looking forward to seeing your profile.

[Bluerhythms]

Hey hey :D

Finally, my application! Sorry this was so long in the making... I'm very busy lately ^^

Name: Logan Bale
Age: 24
Race: Human
Clan: N/A
Station: N/A

Weapons/Abilities: No weapons, no abilities! Such is the fate of humans... :)

Appearance:


Personality: Logan is a bright, curious woman with an aggressive sense of humor, somewhat disillusioned when it comes to modern society. She is naturally impatient and acting on instinct has led her to mistakes in the past, but she can prove to be very brave in extreme situations.

Biography: Logan was born in the London Heathrow airport, in the ladies room, during one of her father's many business trips, and was named thus in thanks to the nurse who had happened to be touching up her makeup the day Logan's mother decided she couldn't convince her body to postpone the baby's birth until the next trip anymore. As her parents divorced when she was two, Logan was raised between San Fransisco, at her father's remote and highly secured propriety, and her mother's flat in a small suburb near Paris.

Mostly left to her own devices, Logan grew up like a wild plant with no sun, clinging to cracks and building a hard temperament in order to protect herself from the others, suffering from other children's jealousy - and giving them hell for it - at her father's and the jokes on her accent and her name in France. Only as she turned fifteen and developed a passion for photography did she start to meet people and learn how to open up. Naturally talented for the arts, she decided to make a living of her hobby, and pursued art studies at college.

It was a month before she finished her course - her social life well established and on her way to reconnect with her mother - that Logan's life took a radical turn. The chosen theme of her last course work being cemeteries, Logan thought she would take pictures of the graves at different moments of the day - and night - and make it into a theme. While she was preparing for a night shoot, she failed to see that she wasn't alone in the graveyard, and accidentally photographed a lonely mourner in a long coat, standing before an old cross covered in moss. She had promptly apologized of course, and moved to another part of the yard.

But as she developed the photographs a few days later, she noticed something very strange in one of her pictures, the picture of the mourner - or where the mourner should have been. The old crossed appeared indeed, with its yellowish moss looking almost green under the flash, but the man was nowhere in the picture, as if he had never existed...

Or as if he couldn't appear in it.

From this moment, Logan has been searching for this man - or whatever he may be - for she is convinced that he is something more. Her natural curiosity, combined with humans well known thirst for discovery, has led her onward restlessly. One thing is for sure, Logan is looking for the truth, and she will get it, no matter what she has to do...