WOD Portland is a much darker, neo-gothic version of its self. Where terrors happen more frequently and tragedy is common-place. Most believe in hauntings and ghosts, urban ledgends, and superstitions. These hold a much deeper, almost spiritual understanding among its human denizens. People refer to places like, “The Red House.” Everytime someone walks past the front of the old brick red house – blood is seen, either in a small way like a mosquito bite, but more often in the form of dead animals and violent crimes. These coincidences seem to happen quit often there, and it has earned the title and reputation of “The Haunted Red House”, or “The Red House”. This is just one of many places in Portland that has a story to tell. Be warned, though – Portland is not for the weak willed or weak…well, anything. You need fortitude – guts to make it here among the creepy things that lurk in the deep shadows. Some beings like us, some much worse. Let the “weird” begin.
“Where have all the spirits gone?”
He looked around at the intersecting brick walls made of human hands. He sniffed and could only smell damp concrete and piss. He inhaled deeply – changing to dalu, and regretted it instantly.
The superior senses that he gained, particularly in smell made him gag, instead he punched the wall and sniffed rapidly. His senses exploded with fresh and old urine, blood, both old and new, some dead blood lingered on the damp pavement. Behind it all was the faint beautiful aroma of roses. There was a writhing sense of aromas with the fresh smells of the grub world just beneath the city’s man-made shell. He could smell the musk of sex and the stench of fear, mixed with sweat and other unsavory aromas. He spat at the ground and looked over at the female. His yellow moon-lit eyes glaring, he expected an answer before now.
“I don’t know, you’re supposed to be the expert!” She retorted. She shook her head and closed her eyes. A second later she opened them and she looked like a blind person, milky pupils and all.
She looked around and a moment later her pupils cleared up. “Nope, none. Well, none that are a danger to us anyway. I don’t think the technology information ones count so…”
He shook his head angry now. “Every other city I have ever been to has many spirits…all contending for territory. What the fuck did you people do to Portland?”
She glared at him and growled, deeply from her throat.
He cut her off, “Silence, there are people a block or so off. Let’s continue this…discussion in the Shadow.” He closed his eyes and touched the lamp-post – and was gone.
Her senses heightened and she could smell alcohol, vomit, sweat, mixed perfumes, roses and fear…the sweet aroma of fear. She blissfully imagined ripping apart one of those small, frail, male human assholes, just out to sleep with women…perhaps to abuse or rape them, or her. She could feel the weight of her past weigh heavily on her emotions. And a violent urge nearly swept her away in its bliss. She calmed herself down and focused on the lamp-post Loci. A moment later her form was through the Gauntlet and she was now standing in Portland’s spiritual echo with the male.
He let out a howl and was off down the jagged road of imposing, suffocating buildings, some only barely visible even as their memory in the physical world diminishes.
She half laughed, giving in to her rage now was acceptable. Here she knew she could kill and it wouldn’t weigh on her conscience…here, humans were safe…at least for now.
Welcome to WOD Portland, don’t let the “Weird” kick you on your way out!